


Become a Legend [on hold/cancelled]

by UnfoundedIdeas



Series: Become a Legend Timeline [2]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon Gay Character, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers to Friends, F/F, F/M, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Origin Story, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but more graphically described, sad wraith, ships will be sunk, vaguely lore friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2020-12-24 22:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21107276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfoundedIdeas/pseuds/UnfoundedIdeas
Summary: Wraith has a million questions and no answers. The only way her to get those answers to join the most brutal sport in the galaxy, the Apex Games. Alone, confused, and inexperienced, she'll have to rise to the challenges that face her or become another forgotten contestant.UPDATE: Tried something a bit too ambitious out of the gate and I'm not 100% happy with the direction I took things. May pick it back up later, or may leave unfinished. Not sure at this point





	1. The first descent

**Author's Note:**

> Effectively this is a mix of my own headcanon of Apex and experiences in-game. I'm playing fast and loose with whatever counts as canon, so expect contradictions with official lore. I'm more or less telling Wraith's story from her first match to "present-day". I'll eventually get caught up with events and I'll be incorporating those as best I can.
> 
> You'll have to bear with some of my grammar and general writing mistakes, I'm still very much learning. 
> 
> And as another fair warning, this story will contain some pretty graphic and brutal violence inflicted on main and canon characters. This chapter will set the tone for the kind of violence I'm going to be working in. As far as I'm aware, the respawn system is not canon, so I'm still deciding on whether or not to incorporate it.

Dozens of different hushed conversations mixed with the drone of the dropship's thrusters. The occasional bump of turbulence would inflict a brief silence before the noise returned. The mixed smells of rubber, steel, and fuel permeated the cold air. One could practically taste the anticipation among its 60 occupants.

In the far corner of the dropship was a small woman in her early thirties, or at least, that was her best guess. Her night-black hair was thrown into a messy bun, matching the combat boots and jacket she wore. A tattered purple scarf hung loosely from her neck. She was a fairly short woman, though somewhat broad in the shoulders and with powerful legs. She'd only ever known herself by the name 'Wraith'.

Only two years ago, she'd escaped an IMC facility that happened to have a bloodsport arena under construction right on top of it. The facility and her escape had left her with a lifetimes worth of questions, and seemingly no good answers. There were only three things she knew for sure: a version of herself from another dimension had saved her, she had the same dimension-hopping abilities, and one way or another, she was getting into that facility. She'd joined the so-called Apex games hoping for the chance to get into that place. It was an admittedly stupid and risky plan, but what choice did she have? For now, she nervously twirled her kunai, the knife's smooth motion calming her just enough to focus.

Another rumble of turbulence shook the dropship, knocking the blade from her hands. Before she could pick it up, another person reached down for it.

"Hey there. I'm Pangolin and this is my partner, Blaze." A young man offered the knife back to Wraith, behind him stood a very large woman.

He was roughly 25, short with a slim frame, and a face dominated by a blue beard. His clothes were curious, some type of rubberized suit with plastic plating layered like scales over it. Pangolin was otherwise bald, and upon closer inspection, Wraith noticed his eyes were the same neon color as his beard. The woman, Blaze apparently, was nearly the size of a door frame and covered in small burns. She had a mohawk of bright red hair and had tattoos of fires up and down her bare arms. 

"You're on our squad for this one new girl. Got a name?" He sounded a bit cocky to Wraith. 

"Wraith." She said flatly. Words had never been her strong suit, actions were Wraith's language. 

"Uh-huh. So 'Wraith', got any skills, training, anything that makes you more than a liability?" He seemed almost annoyed with her curt answer.

"Basic combat training. I know my way around a rifle and I can handle myself in a fight. Good enough for you?" She shot back. Wraith was playing her true strengths close to the chest, she had no idea what exposing that kind of power would bring upon her. 

"Whoa, whoa, no need to be bitchy. I just don't want to die. Stay out of my way, and you won't. Blaze and I have five wins, so let us do the killing. You can be lookout ghost-girl." Pangolin returned Wraith's annoyance.

"You don't look like much." Blaze spoke up, "Lucky for you, you ain't against us. Otherwise..." she imitated sliting someone's throat. The pair walked off, laughing to each other, leaving Wraith alone again. 

Of course that was her squad, a couple of overconfident jackoffs. All she had to do was not die. Easier said than done when 57 people wanted you dead just as bad. Though, if those two were anything to go by, she might actually be able to pull this off. Wraith quieted her mind and returned to spilling her knife, mentally running through the countless hours of the games she'd studied. 

* * *

"Showtime in 60 squad!" Pangolin called out. Wraith had already made her way to the launch pad, readying herself for whatever came next. _Listen to the voices, and shoot straight_. Her mental pep talks were just as direct as her normal speech, but it was all she needed. Wraith knew what she was capable of, she'd seen it firsthand. She'd killed before too, this was just another day at the range she told herself.

"Watch and learn little girl, you're with two legends." Blaze said, taking her place on the pad. 

Wraith looked around the drop area. Many of the contestants fidgeted nervously, a few had started to succumb to panic and began pleading to leave, but most were like her, silently stealing their resolve. There was a sudden murmur as a squad pushed their way through the dropbox. 

"Oh, shit..." Pangolin's overconfident voice was polluted by concern. "Titan squad is here. Oh god, we're fucked, so fucked. Blaze drop us far from those guys. Ah shit this is bad. We're stuck with the new girls and-" His rambling was interrupted by the smack of hand across his face.

"Sack up Pang!" Blaze shouted in his face. "We've dropped legends before, and we'll do it again." She turned to Wraith. "Look, new girl, Titan squad has 29 wins among them. Titan, Bonebreaker, and Ripline. You see those guys, don't engage, or I will shoot you myself. Got it?"

"Understood." She took in a long breath. Wraith knew those names well, she'd studied their victories. They were a trio of efficient and clean professionals. Ripline was a master of setting ambushes and a deadly sniper. The squad would almost always open with a grenade to flush their enemies out, then follow up with a pincer attack. Titan was just a plain good shooter and face of the group, but Bonebreaker was the most dangerous by far. He was a brutally violent hand to hand fighter who could overpower most anyone. 

Just then, the platform began to descend. The warm, humid air of King's Canyon rushed over her face. Saltwater and sand were in the air even this high up and the sun glinted off the pristine waters around the island. It was surprisingly beautiful for an arena of death. Rolling hills of sand, waterlogged forests, and mountain peaks clawing at the clear blue sky. Dotted across the landscape were dozens of manmade structures ranging from small shacks to massive military complexes. 

The HUD Wraith had been issued for the games came online. Compass, weapon systems, squad status, and a map all blinked to life in front of her. An orange dot appeared with a blip, hovering just over an area named "Skulltown". The dropship was about to fly right over it.

_"Bad idea."_ the voice in her head called out. 

"We should land somewhere else, this is too early!" She shouted over the wind noise.

"Shut it, new girl!" Pangolin shot back. "We've done this before, so follow _our_ lead!"

With that, he leaped from the platform, Blaze close behind. _Fuck it_ she thought, throwing herself from the platform. 

The ground rushed towards her, the air getting hotter and stickier as their landing approach. To both her left and right she could see smoke trails, and some were significantly ahead. This was going to be a hot drop.

_"Southwest building."_ The voice advised.

She broke off from Pangolin and Blaze, touching down on the edge of Skulltown. Gunfire immediately thundered through the air, coming from every direction. Wraith bolted for a building, begging for a weapon. Inside she only found a low-level shield and a Mozambique. The arena's announcer called out first blood.

Someone opened the door behind her, she whipped around to come face to face with the barrel of a shotgun. She heard the thud of it firing, felt the force of a sledgehammer in her chest, smelled the burning powder. 

Wraith fell to the ground, her pistol clattering across the floor. Less than a minute after touching down she was going to die. A burst of automatic fire rang out and she watched her attacker become riddled with bullet holes. 

"I told you to stick with us ghost girl!" Blaze shouted at her. "You're gonna get yourself fucking killed and us too!" She grabbed Wraith by her scarf. 

"Just put her down, Blaze. It's fine, we survived the drop. You can have your fun once we're on the recovery ship." Pangolin said, exasperated. Blaze reluctantly obeyed. 

"Fine, but I'm not giving her any of my shit." She said, beginning to pilfer the corpse.

* * *

"Round 5, beginning ring countdown." The voice of the arena's female announcer came through the silence.

"Hell yeah squad, only two others left." Blaze said confidently.

While that was technically good news, Wraith was still not happy. They'd had two gunfights since the drop, with her only managing to rack up a single kill with her pistol. Blaze and Pangolin had looted everything they could get their hands on. Both had level three shields, kitted out weapons, hundreds of rounds of ammo, and plenty of healing items. They'd left Wraith with a level one shield and helmet, two dozen rounds of heavy ammo for her Hemlock (which didn't have so much as an optic attached), and one frag grenade. On top of her lack of any equipment, her ribs were incredibly sore from getting shot and the constant fighting was wearing down her stamina. 

Her squad had worked their way halfway across the arena, ending up inside Repulsor Station. Blaze was setting thermite traps around the open shutters of the bunkers as Pangolin kept his eyes on the hangers further into the station. 

"Titan is still out there. Let's just wait for them to find the other squad, then we swoop in and clean up what's left." Pangolin suggested, his voice had become coky again.

"Agreed. Ghost girl, just don't get in our way." Blaze sneered. What her damage was, Wraith didn't know and didn't care. 

Wraith was about to say something sharp back when the voice in her head yelled out.

_"Behind you!"_ She listened to the voice, this time with her rifle raised. The head of an enemy came perfectly into her iron sights.

The rifle dropped two rapid bursts into him, shattering his shield, and the second splattering his brain across the bunker wall. His squadmates rushed in, hearing the gunfire, but Wraith was ready for them. She emptied her magazine into the first enemy as she came through the door. Her shield broke, but she kept pushing.

"Ambush!" Blaze finally called out, adding her own gunfire to the fray, firing blindly through the door. Her traps went off, spewing flame and smoke through the structure. No one could see a thing. 

_"Your left!"_ Wraith pivoted and found the final member of the enemy squad poised to kick open the door. She pulled the Mozambique from its holster and fired all three rounds into the door, the final salvo breaking through and catching their foe in the chest. 

She jumped when a single shot rang out behind her. However, it turned out to only be Blaze executing the stricken enemies. 

"That makes four for Blaze." She smirked and reloaded the Longbow. "How the fuck'd you know they were there? I didn't hear shit."

"I hear voices." Wraith admitted against her better judgment.

Both Blaze and Pangolin looked at her for a moment, waiting for a punchline. 

"Whatever you say freakshow." Blaze said under her breath. "Titan knows where we are now. Let's keep cool and hunker down. We've got ring, make the bastards come to us!" She said to Pangolin.

He nodded, drawing his EVA shotgun. Wraith reloaded her Hemlock. If her HUD was to be believed, there were 14 rounds in it, and none left for the Mozambique. They had this, she was going to be fine. She took in several long breaths, calming her heart. 

_If you die here, you live in another dimension. None of this matters._ She reminded herself. It was a rather nihilistic mantra, but it was the truth, and in a way, comforting. 

* * *

What seemed like an eternity passed with not even the sound of footsteps. The ring was tiny, maybe only a few dozen meters across, Titan squad had to be right on top of them. Wraith could feel her pulse quickening, the voices in her head were all murmuring to each other, but no distinct warning came through. 

"Grenade, get down!" Pangolin called out. 

Wraith grabbed on to the person closest to her and fell into the void. The world of the void was incomprehensible to anyone but Wraith. Everything was a deep blue and all had become out of focus. Ghostly apparitions darted across the landscape, their fates enacted in staccato motion. Voices whispered warnings and their final words from all directions. 

She emerged from the void on top of the hanger and found a very confused Blaze next to her. 

"WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK WAS THAT?! WHERE'S PANGOLIN, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?!" She screamed in unfiltered terror at Wraith.

"I'll explain later, just get ready for the -" Her words were cut off by a single crack of gunfire. Blaze's head exploded into a fine pink mist and chunks of viscera in front of her, showering Wraith in her remains. Running on pure instinct, Wraith dove down the stairs of the hanger, weapon drawn as the follow-up shot rang out. 

_"Shooter, hide!"_ A voice warned.

To her left, she saw a man coming up the catwalk, weapon drawn. She took a risk and opened fire. Her first burst missed high and he opened fire on her. The distinctive rapid punches of an energy weapon echoed through the building, deafening Wraith. He threw a pair of thermite grenades, igniting less than a meter in front of her face. 

Wraith scrambled forward, trying to keep a low profile. She rounded the corner of the catwalk, colliding with her enemy. He tried to raise his weapon to her, but she grabbed the handguard and forced the barrel to the ceiling. He fired impotently upwards before he realized she was reaching for his pistol. With a single, calculated moved, she unholstered his Wingman, pressed the barrel under his jaw and fired twice, splattering brain matter on her for the second time. 

She vaulted off the catwalk, landing on top of one of the tanks with a loud thud before sliding into the tunnels beneath the hanger. Her ears were still ringing, but she could make out muffled shouting. 

_"Take cover, one more coming down!"_ Wraith hid behind a pallet of barrels and waited, pistol primed. Someone walked by her, failing to check the corner. Big mistake. 

She rushed him and forced the Wingman into his chest, unloading it as she slammed him into the wall. His shield held fast until the last round. 

_"His grenades!"_ The voice gave her all the direction she needed. Desperate, she struggled with him, fumbling with her grenade belt.

"Get the fuck off me bitch!" He screamed, punching her in the eye. She stumbled back, unsure if she'd been successful. "You killed him! I'm gonna tear your throat out!" His eyes burned with hatred. 

He stalked towards her. His grenades should have gone off by now. She kicked blindly at him, managing to catch him in the groin, doubling him over in pain. Wraith pulled the Hemlock from her back and dumped the last of its ammo into her enemy. 

She finally let out an exhausted breath as his blood pooled on the floor. Every muscle in her body wanted to give up, to just collapse on the ground. But this wasn't over yet.

_"Grenade, get down!"_ The voice called, but it was too late.

The weapon clinked along the floor, exploding just as it reached her feet. Wraith was thrown across the tunnel, crunching against the far wall. Her shield was gone, weapons dry, and blood was now oozing from her back. 

A slow, sarcastic clap managed to come through the now almost deafening ringing in her ears. A hand roughly grabbed her hair, cracking her head against the unforgiving concrete wall. 

"Not at all bad little one." The voice was deep and smooth. "You managed to kill my sqaud, I'm truly impressed. But, I'm also very upset with you. I hope you don't mind, but this is very personal for me, so this will be slow and exceedingly painful. Besides, everyone loves a good show. I'm sure your death will be very well received." He threw her back to the ground and stomped on her chest. A small guiser of blood sprayed from her mouth. 

Wraith's entire world was pain. Her chest felt like it was full of white-hot broken glass, her legs may well have been on fire, her face throbbed with each beat of her racing heart. Desperation took hold of her. Her vision was blurry and doubled, but she pulled the kunai from her belt and took a wide swing at the final opponent. He grabbed her wrist with contemptuous ease. 

"You must not know who I am." He said with a sinister chuckle. He ripped the blade from her hand and plunged it into her side. 

Wraith tired scream out, but only a wet gurgle came up. Her lungs were undoubtedly filling with blood. 

"They call me Bonebreaker. Allow me to show you why..." In a simple pull, he snapped her wrist. A sickening crack heralded to the breaking of bone. 

She fell to the floor once again when he released her arm. Tears ran down her face, her breath became even more ragged and full of coughs of blood. The voices in her head were shouting over each other, their insults overlapping and tormenting her mind. 

_"You're a failure!"_

_"Disappointing."_

_"That was pathetic!"_

_"Just give up!"_

_"I've never seen worse."_

_"Not now Wraith." _One said above the clatter of ridicule. _"You know what to do. We're behind you."_ The voice was softer, kinder than usual.

_But I don't know what to do_. She could barely think coherently, much less fight.

Bonebreaker delivered a sharp kick to her jaw. Wraith slumped against the wall, her good hand desperately trying to stem the bleeding from her side. Tears continued to pour down her cheeks, pathetic whimpers of pain could only barely make their way out of her blood-filled mouth. 

"Your abilities are certainly interesting. Had we been in a different match, well, I would have liked to recruit you. You have a drive, I like that. You're here for more than money and glory. It's a cruel fate that I have to end that quest isn't it...what was your name? Ghost? Phantom? I don't know. Here's some free advice before I cure you of all that pain though; being a Legend is about believing that you are. Anyone can kill, but only a Legend can walk through hell like he owns the place." He gave her a genuine smile as he picked up the empty Wingman she had dropped. "Titan's favorite gun. He'd want me to end you with this I think." He dropped a single round into the cylinder and chambered it.

The pistol leveled at Wraith's head. She could see straight down the barrel. 

_"Wraith, show him what a Legend can do."_ An insane idea formed in her clouded mind. Her chance of success was effectively zero, but it was worth a shot.

She picked the frag grenade from her belt and pulled the pin with what was left of her teeth.

"A grenade? That's cute Phantom, but this here is a level four shield, I'll take that blast like its a light breeze. No honor in dying like that." He sounded almost offended.

"My name is Wraith," She spat through the agony. "And today is not the day I die." 

With every ounce of strength she had left, she lunged forward. Bonebreaker fired his shot, but she was not deterred. Wraith dropped into the void, grenade in hand. She made a guess at where he stood and let go, emerging from the void behind him. 

Bonebreaker cried out in pain.

"What the _fuck_ did you do you little demon?" His eyes were wide with shock.

"This." Wraith quipped as the grenade she had dropped inside of him detonated. Gore painted every inch of the tunnel, the only thing left of the Legend was a pair of legs in a puddle of guts and blood. 

Wraith's world faded to black as she fell to the floor one final time. 

_"Good work, Wraith." _Was the last thing she heard before succumbing to the darkness.

* * *

Wraith jolted awake screaming in fear and, a moment later, in pain. She was in a bright room, the light stabbing her eyes. It smelled...clinical, like rubbing alcohol and fabric. Her mind was racing, her own thoughts and the voices mixing into a whirlwind of noise. 

_"Next to you, they're armed!"_ A voice screamed

She needed a weapon, she had to move now. Wraith tried to open her eyes again, but it was far too bright. Her attempt to sit up was thwarted by the stabbing pain across her abdomen. Maybe she could drop into the void, scramble out of wherever this was, find a gun and - 

"Breath easy, ya got me with you." The heavily accented voice of a woman came from next to her. It was warm, kindly, not a hint of any kind of threat. Something metallic clacked against a table. 

"Where am I?" She rasped, fear still coursing through her.

"Ya in the hospital on Solace. Damn miracle ya ain't dead, even with me takin care of ya. And don't talk so much, ya lungs looked like ground beef when I got ya." Wraith felt a gentle hand on her chest pushing her back into the bed. Now that she took a moment to think about it, the bed was incredibly soft, almost able to take her mind off the soreness and pain The light was still too intense for her to open her eyes. "Name's Ajay Che by the way, finest medic ya ever gonna find in the Apex games. Ya go by Wraith, right?"

Wraith nodded. Damn, even that hurt.

"And you know what happened yesterday?"

"I...I won. I think. Titan squad." She was able to say.

"Good, ya mind is still workin. I'm keepin ya here a few more days to heal up, but Lifeline will have ya back on ya feet in no time. Now try an' relax a bit, I'd be a drag for ya to die now. How'd ya like to sleep for a bit?"

"That'd be nice." Wraith wheezed.

Ajay didn't say anything, but Wraith could hear the whirring of a drone and the sounds of fluids mixing. The medic rubbed some alcohol on her arm, getting it ready for an injection.

"This gonna sting a bit." She warned before she jabbed a pair of needles into Wraith.

Wraith felt something cold enter her veins. Her pain immediately began to numb and not long after, her mind. Again, she fell into unconsciousness. 

* * *

Wraith trudged into her quarters in Solace. She'd stayed in the hospital for almost half a week, Ajay tending to her the whole time. The medic was a godsend. Unrelentingly encouraging and a master of her craft, she'd managed to more or less put Wraith back together. Wraith had been pulled from the arena with a bullet through her chest, over sixty pieces of shrapnel across her body, knife in her kidney, both bones of her right forearm compound fractured, her jaw broken, and both lungs collapsed.

Lifeline had fixed everything internal, all of it covered by the Apex game's contract as long as Wraith continued to fight. Her external scars, however, were deemed "purely cosmetic" by game rules. Wraith wasn't looking to impress anyone with a flawless complexion and simply allowed the scars to go unaltered. She needed whatever funds she could scrounge up. 

As a champion, she was entitled to a small, two-room quarters. Today was the first time she entered it. Inside her eyes immediately gravitated towards the bed in the far corner. A generic military-style bunk, but right now it may well have been heaven itself. The rest of the room barely registered, but it wasn't much to look at anyways. Steel plate walls and floor, same industrial style as many of the buildings in the Arena. There was a small kitchenette and living space, the only other door to the bathroom. All the furniture was clearly military surplus as well. 

Wraith collapsed into the bed, its bare minimum softness massaging her battered body and soul. All she wanted to do was sleep, maybe for the next ten years. She didn't even bother changing from the loose-fitting shirt and sweatpants she'd been issued. 

_"You did good Wraith. We're proud of you."_ The soft voice from the arena came to her again.

Wraith smiled faintly. Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up for her. 


	2. A day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The name 'Wraith' now means something in the Outlands. Fighter. Survivor. Victor. 
> 
> But what does a person like Wraith do when there is no match to be won?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the very long delay. In short, real-life commitments, computer trouble, and accidental file deletions. 
> 
> This chapter is more of an exercise in characterization and setting. I prefer to pace out the violence, so this chapter will focus on my characterization of Wraith and more specifically on my take on her mental state. I don't know the exact timeline of the game, but I've decided for myself that Wraith has been in the games for two years, each season of the video game equal to about eight months in the story's world. At this point though, Wraith is still new, so the confident and decisive Wraith we know from the video game hasn't been formed yet. 
> 
> A lot of this story is based on headcanon and my and my friend's justifications for in-game mechanics. Things like someone Wraith or Watton's size carrying a .50 sniper rifle and heavy LMG with hundreds of rounds of ammo, syringes curing headshots, and most of the tech will all be explained in one way or another. 
> 
> I'm also taking a lot of liberty with everything outside the arena. Worldbuilding is something I really enjoy and wanted to apply some ideas I had about the ins and outs of who the Apex games would actually function. So I hope this doesn't come off as too self-indulgent and exposition dumpy.
> 
> So TL;DR, no real action, only Wraith thinking a lot and me establishing things.

"Listen Jalen, alls I'm saying is that she clearly has some skills. She's shown she's clutch in a 3v1, she's got great situational awareness, and that blink ability is like nothing we've seen in the games before. Doesn't that count for something?" One of the hosts of Ringside, an Apex games talk show was becoming exasperated with his cohost. 

"I've seen the same games you have and seen her moves. Yeah, she can shoot and has some unique strengths, but that doesn't translate to becoming anything more than a mid-tier contestant. I've seen a lot of promising starters burn hot and bright for a few matches before they actually meet their match. It's only a matter of time before someone finds the counter to that blink." His partner was more dismissive.

"Wraith took down Titan squad _solo_ for god's sake! That's not beginner's luck, that is raw talent unlike anything we've seen this season. The fact she isn't on at least a silver tier squad I think is a disgrace to the ranking board." 

"Compare Wraith to someone like Pathfinder. Similar mobility strategy, respectable wins, and both confident shooters. Where Wraith falls down is that she is not a team player. Pathfinder can locate the next ringfall, give access to strategic locations, and knows how to team fight. Wraith fundamentally has a solo kit and skillset. Just look at last week's match, three minutes in and she-" 

"Damnit!" Wraith's shout interrupted the broadcast. She sat on the edge of her bed, wearing only a towel, comb caught on a knot in her hair. Another hard yank painfully broke through. No matter what she did to it, her hair was always a tangled mess after a shower. An hour at the gym hadn't helped either.

"Ok, that's true she's still a rookie making rookie mistakes, but she's also making pro-level choices." The debate was apparently still going.

It had been an adjustment for Wraith to listen to people talk about her like that. Like she was someone. Someone who mattered. In the month since that first game, everyone had had something to say about the new girl who killed three legends. Every commentator had a hot take on her. She was the next big thing. She would revolutionize the games. She was a flash in the pan. She was actually a man. She was an alien. It was moderately amusing to Wraith herself but did it get old when she wanted to study other contestants.

Chet and Jalen were among the better analysts she'd found. They weren't always right, but they were always looking deeper than just surface performance. She'd actually learned quite a bit about her own weaknesses for their debates with each other. Their press agent had invited her with an interview, but Wraith declined. The last thing she needed was a target on her back.

Wraith turned off the screen. She wasn't in the mood to think about the games right now. 

She'd pulled off two more wins, in both of which she outshined her squad by miles. And as an added bonus, she'd only had to see Ajay once for a twisted ankle. That wasn't to say she hadn't visited willingly. After her first match, the games had given her a small congratulatory basket with a significant amount of cash and a very expensive bottle of champagne. Wraith couldn't stand the taste of wine and had presented it to Ajay as a thank you. Every so often she'd bump into the medic in the mess hall or gym and strike up a casual conversation. They rarely talked about anything that mattered, but for Wraith even the most basic of human interaction was a revelation. She hadn't had anyone she could even come close to calling a friend since her escape. 

With a few final runs, she finished combing her hair. It had just passed seven in the morning, the day was almost over. Solace had only a seventeen-hour day. Wraith decided she needed more range time, she had nothing better to do. 

* * *

The facility on Solace didn't have an official name, but most had taken to calling it "The Den". It was a massive and sprawling facility divided into five main towers arranged in the chevron logo of the games, labeled A through E. Most of the 1500 contestants lived in double and triple rooms, awaiting their first qualifier. Once someone had won, they were awarded the option to take a personal quarters. Squads could reserve larger two and three person areas. There were multiple mess halls simply named "Mess", followed by the letter of the tower they were in. The gyms followed the same naming conventions. Other more specialized areas like the hospitals, firing ranges, libraries, hair salons, and press rooms were distributed among the towers. By chance, Wraith and Ajay both lived in C tower, nicknamed "Sea Tower" due to the leaky water mains. Whoever was behind these games had spent untold billions on the arena and The Den. Wraith speculated they had some kind of military contacts, much of the facility was the same utilitarian exposed steel and surplus furniture of her room.

That, however, was not her primary concern, in fact, she could care less who was behind the games, unless they were connected to that facility. To discover her truth, she needed not just to survive, but win. 

"Again, 50 meters." Wraith snapped at the range's AI. She slapped another magazine into the Hemlock and clapped the empty one against the counter. The magazine beeped positively and she slipped it back into its pouch.

The range designers had clearly considered the ease with which people could eliminate the competition. The weapons didn't have actual ammunition and weren't even real weapons themselves. They were modified to simulate the recoil and muzzle climb with pneumatics and the muzzle flash with simple holograms. Hits on target were registered with integral computers that tracked the muzzle and weapon movement. 

She returned the weapon to her shoulder, it felt good in her hands. Weighty and powerful, but not sluggish; the ergonomics were perfectly adjustable for her size. The sights lined up on the target's chin. Wraith let out a breath and squeezed the trigger. Three rounds were spat out in rapid succession and again, the third round went high, right over the DUMMIE.

"Shit!" If the training weapons actually ejected brass, she'd be ankle-deep and was still missing that last shot. She pulled down with all the strength she could in that fraction of a second, but the Hemlock just kicked too hard. Though a barrel stabilizer would alleviate that in an instant, there was no guarantee she could find one in the arena. 

"You seem frustrated friend." An upbeat mechanical voice came from the bay next to her. Wraith turned to see a tall, spindly robot, Pathfinder as he chose to be known. One the imagined list of most mysterious contestants, he was probably number three. The unknowable Bloodhound topped that chart, and as far as the public was concerned, Wraith came in a close second. People had at least seen her face.

"I am." She growled. The robot's overly cheery tone was not going to be endearing for long. His unwavering optimism and endless crusade to find his origin were about all anyone knew of him.

"May I suggest you start your burst lower? I don't aim for the head, I let my weapon bring me there. It usually works." It was hard to tell if he was being sincere or if this was some of his infamous robotic condescension. 

"Fine. I'll try it your way." She considered the possibility he was trying to trick her, but it wasn't like she could do worse. 

She placed the irons over the DUMMIE's chest, right where the heart would be and fired. Sure enough, all three rounds hit, the final one embedding itself in the forehead. Wraith smirked a little. She dropped another burst, then another, emptying the magazine into the DUMMIE. 30 rounds fired, 30 on target. Maybe Pathfinder knew a thing or two.

"That was very good shooting friend, high five!" He held up a mechanical hand a bit too high for Wraith. She looked at him confused. "Oh right, you are smaller than me." He lowered his hand and she gave it a halfhearted tap. Pathfinder didn't seem to mind her lack of enthusiasm as his chest screen displayed a smiling face. 

"Why'd you give me advice, we might meet in the arena someday." Wraith asked.

"It is true we might have to fight against each other, but we may be on the same team! It is also very nice to help people." Wraith still didn't fully know what to make of Pathfinder. She knew he was a very skilled fighter, but in person, he felt almost oblivious to how people worked. She guessed that was one thing they had in common. Well, two since neither knew where they came from.

"You waste your time with optics on the Peacekeeper. It's a close-range weapon, use your instincts and don't try anything fancy." She tossed out the only piece of advice she could come up with at short notice. "And if I were you, I'd use that grapple as a weapon." Wraith said.

"That is a very good idea. You are Wraith, correct? I am Pathfinder. I hope we can fight together someday friend." 

"Yeah. We'll see where the road takes us." She said coldly as she reloaded her rifle.

"See you soon Wraith, I am going to repair my servos. Enjoy your training." And with that, he left.

Wraith shook her head. All her interactions with others were a bit stilted, she never was good with people, but Pathfinder's own oddities had made that a rather weird conversation even for her. Though even she had to admit, it was nice just to talk to someone. She'd gone full months in complete silence before the games. 

She reloaded her weapon again. Now wasn't the time for self-reflection, she had training to complete. 

* * *

Like nearly every activity, Wraith ate alone, anyone trying to sit with her was met with a rather hostile glare. She always sat at the same table in Mess Hall C, back corner right next to the dish return, facing the entrance. It ensured no one could come at her when she wasn't looking, otherwise, the voices would go crazy, calling out everyone who had a steak knife. 

The food itself was fine, nothing great, but acceptable for the number of people that had to be fed. Today was apparently deep fired flyer and some local vegetables. It was all a bit salty and otherwise bland. If she had the motivation to, Wraith could take the train into the nearby town of Fortune and buy her own food, but that would be a waste of a few precious hours. Besides, the food here was free, gave her all the nutrition she needed, and was better than the scrounged together meals she subsisted on after her escape. 

"And that's when I come in, one bullet left in my Wingman. Bam, champion and kill leader both go down in once shot and I win again. I was excel-extra-exta-...very excited!" Wraith knew that voice well. It belonged to Mirage, the most infamous flirt in the games. He was handsome enough to actually pull it off from time to time, but she generally found him rather annoying. Thankfully, he hadn't given her any mind yet. 

She returned to her food, doing her best to zone him and everyone else out. Romance rarely crossed her mind, and if it did, Mirage ranked fairly low on that list. 

_"Pay attention, screen, your left."_ A voice called out.

The clamor of the mess hall drowned out the audio, but thankfully subtitles were on.

_In the most controversial rule change since the introduction of disruptor rounds, the Apex Committee has declared a win may be declared even with other squads still alive. An incapacitation is now all that is required for a contestant to be considered "dead". The committee expressed their desire to keep the games interesting and tense, while also giving contestants more opportunity to gain skill. Some have suggested this decision came in the wake of the unexpected fall of both Titan and Lima squads with the large fanbases vocally criticizing the games for allowing one bad day to end months of success. We'll of course keep you informed as this story develops..._

Wraith allowed the words to soak in her mind. For all her forethought and the voices in her head, she couldn't have predicted just how fast this would become the best news she ever heard.


	3. The weakest link

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her downfall was a matter of time. That's the problem with making choices, they're often not the right one and the Apex games don't tolerate mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a content warning, there's the usual level of violence, as well as some vague allusions to PTSD.

Groans and thuds continued to come through the thin walls of Wraith's room. Another glance at the clock revealed it was now three in the morning. Apex contestants had to be the horniest people in the world. Every single night someone's one-night stand kept Wraith up. More than once she'd walked in on people having sex in the gym showers or in some back room. Half the time they just continued on as if she didn't exist. She'd be hard-pressed to find a place people _weren't_ currently having sex come to think of it. Ajay had enough stories about people who "fell" on to various objects or pulled a muscle "working out" to fill a five-volume anthology, including someone who in their infinite wisdom had managed to get a live thermite grenade inside themselves. 

Sex very rarely crossed her mind, hell, even arousal was a rare occurrence. When that heat in her core did crop up, she was able to make quick work of herself with her fingers. This required care, however. On one occasion, she'd lost concentration and fell into the void. It was a dangerous place for the unprepared, and her mental state did not help at all. Thankfully, she'd made it back in one piece, and to a private area. Her lack of any real sex drive concerned Wraith though, was something wrong with her if everyone else was constantly hooking up? Had the experiments on her silenced that part of her? She'd floated the concern to Ajay who assured her it was fine, though Wraith assumed she was just being kind.

Wraith punched the wall after another series of loud grunts leaked through it.

"Can you keep it down?!" She barked, "Some people have to compete tomorrow!" Sleep was a precious commodity on the best of nights, and this was not helping her already sour mood.

"Sorry brotha'" A voice boomed through the wall. Another man's voice just laughed.

As she had assumed, the noise was back minutes later. With no other option, Wraith buried her head under her pillows, hoping it could dampen the sound enough to allow for sleep.

* * *

"We hit riverside of Bunker, follow the water all the way down to treatment and make a stand there. Simple plan, lots of loot along the way." Wraith's squadmates were a part of military types, a man and a woman. They seemed to be friends or something. She hadn't bothered to remember names regardless. The woman was rather tall and wore some kind of armored skirt that reminded her of pictures she'd seen of ancient warriors. Her partner was in more standard military fatigues save the large emblem of a dog on his chest. 

"Bunker is always a hot zone. Dropping there is a fast road to being dead." Wraith countered. First-timers loved to aim for high tier loot, a strategy that usually ended up with them becoming first blood.

"What do you have in mind, Wraith?" The man asked. He seemed genuinely interested in her advice, unlike his counterpart.

"Relay, it's remote, mid-tier equipment, common area for ringfall." Wraith didn't make claims to know everything, but she had more experience in the ring than these two put together.

The woman threw her hands up.

"Relay is a dead zone. We hot drop and eliminate hostiles. Get the positional advantage early on before equipment becomes a factor. The best squads land in high-tier zones and we can ambush them when they're underequipped." She chopped one hand into her palm. This was her first match and she was excited, but evidently she wasn't going to listen.

"And what happens when you get found without gear?" Wraith pointed out. She'd seen that one far too many times. It didn't matter how skilled you were, a Mozambique was no match from a Spitfire or R-301.

"We hit the supply bins, and there are plenty of structures nearby. All I need is a rifle and we'll be filling the meat wagon." She laughed. "So thanks for your input, but _I'm_ jumpmaster. We follow my lead." She wasn't going to let up. 

"Fine. We do it your way." Wraith relented. If this was it, who cared. There were a billion more of her out there to find out where they came from, she was completely expendable. She could also just ditch her squad early on and hope for the best, but a solo win was not a trivial affair. They'd at least take some fire off of her once the gunfights started. 

* * *

To Wraith's surprise, Bunker was completely abandoned. Her squadmates, who she'd taken to calling "Captain" and "Private" had rushed through, grabbing all the best weapons and gear. The only saving grace was Bunker's high-tier equipment left Wraith with her own decent arsenal. Gunshots echoed from every direction, some a few dozen meters off, others halfway across the arena.

"G7 scout here, semiautomatic and dependable rifle." Captain called out. "Personal favorite of mine for dropping tangos at mid-range."

_Shut the fuck up_. Wraith didn't want or need a breakdown of everything that woman saw. 

"Anyone have shield cells, I'm low?" Private asked.

"You have eight, you'll be fine." Wraith growled. She had a total of three but wasn't about to stoop to asking these tryhards for a spare.

"Target on my mark. 170 out, heading of 238 degrees." Captain had climbed the gate on the outside of Bunker. "Maher, get up here and spot for me."

Evidently Private's name was Maher and Wraith was not welcome on the gate. She held back, keeping her Prowler ready for anything that might come through the Bunker. They were at the edge of the ring, escaping through Bunker would be their only real option once it began to close, not ideal.

**_"Danger move!"_ **A voice warned.

"Not sure, I think someone's targeting us." Wraith relayed.

"Yeah, there's a sniper out that way." Maher waved towards Thunderdome. "If he stops for a second, we can nail him."

"No, closer than that." Wraith warned. She looked around for any sign of what the voices had noticed. Nothing to be seen other than rocks and sand. 

Suddenly, a bullet whizzed by her head. Wraith dove to the ground and a moment later dozens of rounds were shrieking in.

"Ambush! Second squad coming from the north!" The Captain lept down from her perch and began to return fire. 

Wraith was back on her feet and raised the triple take to her cheek, still unable to make out distinct targets. A muzzle flash burst in the shadows of Bunker, betraying the attacker's position. She fired where the flash had been, but hit nothing. A second shot clipped her foe, but he was able to find cover behind a boulder.

_Fuck_. Her stores of energy ammo were small, not a resource to waste on blind shots.

As the attack intensified and it became clear this was not just one squad, they'd been caught in the middle of as many as three. From Wraith's experience, getting as far away as possible from this was the only way to survive. 

"Grenade, get down!" The Captain shouted.

The frag landed right at Wraith's feet. Only spared by reflexes, she fell into the void. The cold emptiness of that place between places washed over her. She could see a dozen versions of this firefight unfolding before her. In one, the grenade had just plastered her onto the wall. For the first time, she saw her own entrails. Another dimension saw her crumple to the ground, like a puppet with its strings severed. A bullet had cleanly cut her mind from her body. Even after seeing it so many times, watching herself die gave Wraith a visceral shock in her gut. These other Wraiths were just like her, all real people who had lived real lives. In a way, they were her only real family, an infinite line of sisters, hundreds of whom she'd seen killed in the most brutal ways possible. Their roads ended, and hers continued for some reason. She prayed to whatever power might exist that there was a reason for it all, that she wasn't just a lucky aberration of science. 

Wraith was ejected into her own dimension as the built-up void in her ran dry. The ground was still a bit warm from the blast and the air was thick with smoke. There would be time to reflect on the existential horror that was her life if she didn't join the countless Wraith shaped corpses in the next few minutes. The Captain was calling out targets, delivering hits on them with textbook military technique. Her compatriot was doing his best to suppress their right flank, but the enemy was closing in with a hail of automatic fire.

"Wraith! Holy shit I thought you got blasted!" Maher shouted over the chaos.

"I'm fine, we need to get out of here now!" Wraith dumped a few more rounds at the vague direction of the gunfire to their south. The enemy squads were about to be pressed on them with the next ringfall. One way or another they'd have to get through Bunker if they wanted to survive. 

"Do your teleporty thing!" He suggested.

"I need some more time, it has to recharge." She checked the device on her wrist, twenty-eight seconds. That was an eternity in a gunfight. She tapped her head against the concrete wall. Maybe she could just stand up and join the other Wraiths, be free of continuing to exist. 

Maher tossed a pair of frag grenades and darted over to Wraith before she could explore the self-destruction. He slid right up next to her and placed a set of arc stars in her lap pulling her back out of her pondering.

"Picked these up earlier, in case you need them." He gave her a timid smile, "You're pretty good with these little beauties."

"Thanks." Wraith murmured. Even in the middle of all the violence, the tiny moment of kindness put just a sliver of warmth into the emptiness inside her. 

**_"Sniper, look out!"_** But the voice was a moment too late. 

Before either could even hear the shot, the bullet had torn right through Maher's side then embedded itself in Wraith's leg. Both their armor sets had been shattered with the distinct crackle of the energy shield failing. Maher just looked at Wraith, his eyes wide. Intuitively, he knew what just happened, but adrenaline was a funny thing.

"He's hit, we need to leave _now!"_ Wraith screamed.

"Copy, smoke out!" The Captain tossed a grenade that blossomed into a billowing wall of smoke. 

Wraith pulled Maher to his feet. He wobbled and swayed as blood saturated his clothes. It wasn't hard to tell where the bullet had gone, right through the stomach. Unless they could find a medkit soon, he would slowly and painfully die as the acids and bloodloss dragged him from his mortality. There was a hollowness to his stare, he understood what his fate was now.

"It's not good, he-god fuck!" Wraith screeched when she tried to stand on her wounded leg. Having her mobility handicapped and a deadweight turned their escape from difficult to miraculous. 

The Captain stabbed a syringe into both of them. The nanites in them could repair some of the damage, but their primary effect would be to numb the pain. She wrapped her arm over Wraith's shoulder and fired off another smoke grenade.

"Come on soldier, we're moving." The battered squad began to hobble through Bunker.

Behind them, the symphony of battle continued. Machinegun fire, the blast of grenades and crack of rifles, and the desperate shouts of squads about to be wiped echoed off the walls of Bunker. The reverberating tormented them with the promise of what would be soon following.

They all collapsed by a small boulder near the river, but the games didn't allow them rest. Immediately they drew fire from the shacks on the other side. And the games weren't done yet. The announcer called out that the ring was beginning to move, very soon whatever remained of the mess on the far side of Bunker was going to be their problem. 

"Wraith, call it." The Captain deferred to her for the first time.

"Give us cover, I can drag Maher inside." She winced at the idea of carrying both their weights with a dud leg.

"Roger." Immediately the Captain opened a barrage of suppressing fire on the shacks.

As the enemy returned inaccurate fire, the two wounded squadmates stumbled and fell into the nearby building. The thick wood walls would provide enough temporary cover. Just in time too. The door to Bunker opened and a squad light up the area across the river, the distraction was enough for the Captain to get inside as well.

They burned through all their shield cells and syringes in moments. The outlook was not great. Shields were at full power, but only the Captain was uninjured and if Maher was going to see tomorrow, they _needed_ a medkit. If Wraith wanted to do more than limp across King's Canyon, she'd need the same. Ammo and ordinance was its own problem. Among them, there were only a few dozen rounds and the two arc stars Maher had given Wraith. At this point, they needed to kill for gear.

Wraith slumped against a wall, her head hanging between her knees. For once, the pain wasn't the problem, syringes had solved that. The odds of her, of any of them surviving, were low. All her other close calls had happened too fast for her to really appreciate how closely she danced with death.

**_"Their lives are worthless. So is_ _yours_."** A voice reminded. 

Comforting in a way. Wraith could never truly die, neither could her squad. Somewhere else, they lived on. There'd be no one to mourn her. Whatever family she'd had was more distant than a forgotten dream. Ajay was the only thing she had close to a friend, and even she'd get over it soon. That was the point of the games, to kill and be killed. The thought still filled Wraith's gut with glacial water. For as little time as she spent with this squad, she'd rather not see them die. Maybe there was someone out there cheering for them. 

"Alright Wraith, what's part two?" The Captain spoke up.

"I can try and phase us up the hill. You and Maher can slide down to Cascades, final ringfall should be there." 

"And you?" There was no way she didn't know what Wraith intended, she just wanted to hear it.

"I'll stay behind, draw their fire while you two get dug in." Wraith sighed. She'd resolved to die here. Maybe her purpose was to allow these two to live. Not a bad life, at least the three or so months she remembered of it. 

"Negative. No soldier left behind!" There was a force in her words, the force of something so ingrained in her that it had become her. 

"One of our roads ends here, may as well be mine."

"I will carry your ass!" She was shouting now. Wraith hadn't pegged her as the type to get worked up over something like this and it wasn't often she missed the mark by that much. Before Wraith could retort, however, she realized something. The gunfire had stopped. And that yell had probably just given away their position.

As if one cue, bullets slammed into the shack. The walls would hold, but the squad would soon burst in, surely outgunning them. The options had tinned to two: move or die. Wraith's wristband told her she had an escape plan, but not a long one. There was no way she could take them both.

"I'm sorry." She looked a Maher channeling whatever compassion she was capable of. The look of horrified betrayal on his face ripped her open, but she couldn't change her mind.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The Captain's eyes widened. "You motherfu-"

Wraith seized her and dropped into the void. Each step up the hill was agonizing. The voices filled her skull to bursting. They begged her to stop, screamed for her to continue, called out a thousand possible threats and failures.

Falling out of the void was like emerging from water. The surface tension burst and the warmth of the sun washed over her, leaving that frigid place behind. But her ears were soon filled with screams.

"NO! JACKIE!" The Captain screeched. She lunged towards the shack, but Wraith held her back. "NO, not again! Let the FUCK GO OF ME!" Before she even saw anything, Wraith felt something crack against her forehead. Whatever had hit her knocked her to the ground and drew a small trickle of blood from her brow. She saw the butt of a rifle and understood. "BITCH! FUCKING COWARD!" The insults spewed from her mouth laced with venom.

"It was him or us, I couldn-"

"You motherfucker!" She smashed her rifle into Wraith's head again.

"I made a choice and someone died, that's how the games work. I'm sorry it had to be Jackie." Wraith tried her friend's name to calm her down, but instead, it turned burning rage to ice-cold resentment.

"Keep that name the _fuck_ out of your mouth." She growled. "If we live through this, and you _ever_ speak that name again, I will show you the meaning of shock and awe. Stanton Maher. That is the man you just left for dead. For your sake, make it worth it." She started to walk off, leaving Wraith on the ground. 

"Can I get-"

"FINE!" The soldier marched back over to her and practically ripped Wraith's arm off pulling to her feet. "Unlike you, I respect my squad." She spat.

* * *

Against every odd, they'd made it to the last three squads. The captain hadn't said a single word to Wraith since and had been actively avoiding eye contact. They hadn't found a fight which was salvation for Wraith. Her leg was getting worse and bloodloss had slowed her significantly. Thankfully, they wouldn't have to move far. The ring had settled near Wetlands and the two had taken refuge in a small two-floor building.

"I really am-"

"Shut it. I don't want or need you to say whatever you think I do." The ice was worse than fire. Inadvertently, Wraith had cut this woman to the bone. Her face was steeled with resolve, but Wraith knew the pain and weakness in her eyes far too well. She saw it in every mirror. "

**_"Sniper targeting_** _**you!"**_ The voice cried out. _**"Let them kill her..."**_

A voice had never asked her to let a squadmate die before. Something was definitely off about this one.

"I think we're being aimed at." Wraith said softly.

"Stay away from windows then." Her squadmate growled.

_**"We'll talk about this." **_Whatever this voice was, it was something new. Not what she needed right now.

Something clicked off the wall next to her. Wraith looked down to see a small orb covered in red lights. 

_Fuck_.

The grenade detonated and the concussion threw her into the ceiling. She felt her ribs break again, the shrapnel embedded deep in her flesh. Breaths came fast and ragged. Her mind replayed the events of her first match over and over again. The agony and fear rushed back into her like poison. She threw up on the floor and prayed the smoke prevented anyone from seeing that. Something crawled under her skin, something sharp and freezing. Tears ran down her face. It was getting harder to breathe.

_Not again, please no. Let me just die now._ For the first time since that first match, Wraith felt fear and the longing for death. 

She heard gunfire close by and the shouts of her squadmate. The rapid bursts of a Hemlock were interrupted by the methodical beat of sniper fire. 

"Shit, I'm hit!" Her voice was panicked and pained. "Don't you da-" And then she was silent. 

In moments, the enemy squad would come upstairs to mop up Wraith. They'd find her unable to move in a pool of her own stomach contents and blood, a truly pathetic sight. Hopefully, it would be a quick end. Footsteps clanged on the steps. A pair of boots took over her entire field of view. She couldn't look up to see her fate, she didn't even want to know. 

_**"Don't worry."**_ Another unusual voice, this one different for its kinder tone. _**"They aren't here to kill you."**_

_**"Shut up! Wraith, use your Arcstars, take them with you! End both your empty lives!" **_The voices were, arguing?

** _"Listen to me Wraith. They're a friend."_ **

Before Wraith had the chance to pick a voice her opponent spoke.

"I'm sorry friend, you fought well. I will make this quick." Her world faded away.

* * *

When Wraith awoke, she assumed she'd entered hell. It was loud, noisy, and uncomfortably hot. However, upon opening her eyes, reality was only slightly better. It was the dropship, she'd been spared. Next to her sat the Captain who had evidently shared her fate.

"Stanton Maher. Know that name. It's the man you let die. And Anita Williams. That's my name." Anita drove a combat knife into the cot Wraith was on. "That's the name of the person who kills you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like Bangalore's personality in-game. Her little comments about all the gear is honestly really fun and I like that she's a bit more than just another soldier type. I want to explore some of her going forward and figured Wraith would need a nemesis, so who better than the former soldier of the group that imprisoned and created her. 
> 
> I've also always liked the idea that the voices can hear each other and don't always agree, something I'll be looking at more as well.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism and feedback is welcome and encouraged.


	4. Refine, refocus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her first loss, Wraith tries to get back on her game. Her past, powers, and emptiness both push her forwards and drag her down.

Staton A. Maher had been born on the 8th of May in 2701. His parents were both accountants for a small power company in a backwater colony. He'd wanted to make a better life for himself, and so, at nineteen, he'd enlisted in the IMC. Though spotty without the proper clearances, his military record was that of a commendable soldier. A man loyal to his comrades, respected by his superiors, and above all, one to always think before he acted. By chance, he was assigned to the same unit as one Sgt. Anita Williams. Evidently the pair had become fast friends, and when they had been among the sole survivors of that unit, their bond became even closer. In an interview Maher claimed he joined the games to watch over a friend, never revealing who. In his spare time, he liked to fish and was famous for his big fish stories. He also liked to paint, using thick swaths of oil paint to create vivid scenes of the ocean, a place he'd always felt a connection to. As far as anyone could tell, he didn't have much family left. He was unmarried, his parents had disowned him for joining the IMC. 

That was one of seventeen stories Wraith had spent a weekend uncovering. They were the stories of the people she'd killed and the squadmates she'd let die. For each, she'd printed a photo and a name that was then taped to the wall opposite the dining table. Though the voices argued otherwise, these were people who did matter to someone. In another dimension, another time they lived on, but here their loss was felt. These people left behind friends, families, children, people who relied on them. Everything that they were to the world was stolen by a woman with nothing to lose. 

_**"This is pathetic." **_The abrasive voice hadn't gone away, if anything it'd gotten worse. Wraith had heard plenty of variations on the voices, each had a different tone and cadence, some were panicked, others composed, she even swore she'd heard a man's voice once. But the voices she'd taken to calling Fury and Comfort were unique. In all the years she'd had voices in her head, they never conversed and they never got so personal.

**_"You're doing good Wraith, you can still be whole." _**Comfort was the only source of sanity in all this. She, at least Wraith assumed the voice was a she, never coddled Wraith, but knew just how to give her a leg to stand on. Where Fury sought to encourage through insults, Comfort preferred to provide suggestions, it was her who came up with the idea to learn about those she had killed. In a way, it had made it easier. She'd been forced to confront the darkness and found herself strong enough to stand alone. 

**_"You're making her soft, the Games will exterminate you like a pest. I'm the only chance you have Wraith."_**Wraith tried to ignore them as much as she could, though Fury did have the occasional good idea, like watching the match where she'd been defeated.

In the end, it had been Bloodhound that had taken her down. They were a complete enigma, but one of the most skilled combatants the Games had ever seen. A single shot from a Kraber from over one-hundred meters, fired while on a zipline, had dropped Williams before the hunter knocked her out. They'd then scanned around and discovered Wraith's position, the grenade that had incapacitated out came from the third squad comprised of three no-names. Bloodhound had been among the squads that engaged Wraith's earlier in the match, they'd been the one to take the shot which crippled her and Maher. For some reason, they took pity on her and Anita. The final squad was not so lucky. With the help of Gibraltar, that squad was wiped like they were rabbits. An artillery strike sent the trio scurrying inside to Bloodhound, waiting with a Peacekeeper. Two fell to the shotgun and the third attempted to stab Bloodhound, evidently unaware of the prowess they possessed. The duel was as short as it was brutal, the final blow a slash to the throat. Bloodhound made the shortlist of people Wraith actually feared. 

The footage had thankfully not shown her crying, Wraith couldn't bear the idea of that level of weakness being visible to everyone. Unfortunately, the moment that she'd vomited had been captured and had gained some traction as a vehicle for ridicule. There was a slight silver lining that the generally accepted explanation revolved around the blast wave disrupting her organs and sense of balance, and that her decision to leave Maher was generally portrayed as a necessary but difficult call to make. The most common hot take, however, was that this was the downfall of Wraith, that her next match would see her killed by a less merciful opponent. Everyone who passed her in the Den seemed to stare at her, then share some mumbled comment with a snickering friend. Game reports had shown the footage of her getting shot or tossed by a grenade on a practical loop. Defeat had made her more famous than victory. 

_**"Talk with Bloodhound, they're a friend."**_That had been Comfort's crusade for the past few days, though the idea of talking to someone who had seen her at that low point and more importantly would probably kill her under any other circumstance was a bit off-putting, to say the least. 

"Both of you shut up. I'm not in the mood for this again." She mumbled. As far as she knew, Fury and Comfort couldn't hear her thoughts, making interacting with them in public at best inconvenient. Appearing cold and aloof was part of Wraith's persona, but looking crazy didn't have the same advantages. 

_ **"You're just afraid of what you have to become to win. The sooner you give up on trying to find closure in some bullshit past, the sooner you'll be strong enough to reach your potential." ** _

"Don't you have something else to do? Just go back to your own dimension." She sneered. 

_**"If you only knew..." **_Wraith did not like Fury's tone. The voice knew something she wasn't going to let on. _**"We'll chat soon Wraith."**_

Just then, a bright ping came into the small room. It was clearly an artificial sound, but Wraith couldn't figure out its origin. There was a second one, this time she gathered the general direction. It was coming from her left and the only plausible source was the small computer that came with the room. Funny, she thought she'd muted it. The barrage of sponsor request emails and confessions of undying love had filled the room with near-constant inbox sounds. 

Wraith quickly determined the offending message. It's subject line and sender were an incoherent string of letters and numbers, but there was something vaguely familiar in them. The number string 0305 jumped out at her, twisting her gut. Nothing in her loose memory could place the four digits, but it triggered something in her deeper than thought. With concern beginning to settle in, she read the short message. 

_//_ V_, _

_I haven't heard from you in some time. Got worried that what you were after found you instead. You appear to be alright. We need to meet and discuss. This place reaks of rotten citrus, fresh air sounds nice. Just pick a place. I'll give a time._

_-C_ _//_

The words, like the number, stirred in her mind, kicking up something. A feeling of deja vu, shards of a memory, but nothing solid. Her fingers lightly danced on the keys, searching for a response. 

_**"Mention catching a bass." **_A voice suggested.

"What?" Occasionally, nonsense did come through the void. Voices had suggested throwing soup at Pathfinder and taking up snowboarding as a hobby, so it wasn't out of the question that the advice she got was sometimes off base. But this wasn't like that, it was earnest, almost desperate for her to listen. 

_**"You'll understand later."**_

_Thanks, voices in my head!_ That was also not a first. For all her attempts to squeeze information from them, the voices had never given her access to her name or any details of her past. They seemed to all keep secrets from Wraith. 

_//_ _C, _

_Now is not a good time. Too much activity here. Barely managed to get out and catch a bass yesterday before I had to go back in. Let's call it three weeks from today near the crashed dropship. Keep me posted._

_-V _ _//_

She did her best to imitate the email's stylings. An instant after she clicked send, the response came from the same gibberish sender. 

_//Midnight//_

Whatever this was, it was going to happen. 

* * *

_**"No, you're trying to control the void. It needs to run through you. You are its conduit, not its master."**_Comfort had a new objective, teach Wraith to better use her powers. Portals were the topic of the lesson.

"I'm fucking trying!" Things were not going well. 

She could manage to create one end, a squirming slice in space that sucked all the heat from the room. It's edges danced with the crackle of energy and in the small sliver in the center, the liquid darkness of the void rippled like an ocean of ink. Wraith could feel its presence even without the cold and steady hum, it was like someone else was in the room with her when the portal was up. 

_**"That's the problem, you're trying. It needs to happen like breathing Wraith, the void bends to no one, and it is more the powerful enough to break you." **_Getting lectured on the nature of a tear in space-time by voices in one's head probably did count as insane. For all her encouragement, Comfort was not the best at explaining _how_ to actually do anything. 

As with the dozens of previous attempts, when Wraith tried to place the other end it reduced to a single point and blinked out of existence. 

"How can I not try to do something I don't even know how to do?" It had occurred to Wraith she was just a lame version of the others, that this power wasn't in her ability. 

_**"Think about** **breathing."** _Wraith obeyed. _**"It's not automatic anymore, is it?" **_The voice was right, she'd entered that awkward state where she had to consciously breathe until she again forgot it was a requirement. 

"Fine, I see your point. One more ok? I'm almost spent." Wraith sighed and the voice made a "mm-hmm" of approval. 

She held out her hand, allowing the emptiness to fill her. Within her fingers, the void wobbled and flowed like ice water before bursting forth, running goosebumps over her skin. The tear manifested, hollowly sucking in warmth and air, radiating its unknowable presence into the most primal parts of Wraith's mind. She took a single step forwards, into the void. 

Her world became and infinite expanse of darkness, like a moonless night. There was a solid ground of sorts, though it remained unseen. Streaks of pale blue crossed around her, unconstrained by direction or rotation, they were other Wraith's momentarily dropping in. Breathing filled her lungs with what felt like a cold gel. She took another step forward. 

Within the void, distinct from the ghostly trails of her sisters, there were shimmers of white. From deep within her fractured memory came a thought, they were doors, she just needed to connect to them. They numbered thousands, each, assumedly, leading to a different world, but which was hers? A feeling swelled inside her. A hunch. Something drew her towards one of the doors. She stepped towards it. 

The passage was shapeless, like an object in the corner of her eye. Wraith tried in vain to concentrate on it, but its form alluded her. Another instinct washed over her brain. Touch it. Her hand reached out, almost on its own, tentative, but unafraid. There was solid contact, then, blinding light. 

Wraith stumbled into the wall, grasping the frosty steel for support. Her gasping breaths couldn't keep up with her heart or her mind. She breathed harder, fear crept up her spine. This couldn't be the right place, she'd come out somewhere wrong. 

_**"You're getting there." **_Comfort's voice fell on her like a warm blanket. She was still home. Though her labored breathing didn't stop, the fear retreated for now. _**"More practice will do you well."**_

"I...I saw it. The void I could travel through. It felt like..."

_**"Like home."**_The voice finished. _**"We're tied to that place Wraith. It's frigid, unforgiving, and cruel, but it is our greatest refuge. You'll learn to use it just like I did. It will take time and patience."**_ She emphasized the last word. The other Wraith knew her perfectly well, but that didn't make the jab any less uncomfortable. 

Wraith sat down. The frost had already melted off her walls, leaving no sign of her venture into nothing. She danced her hand in front of her, it was her instrument of the power, the void her music. And yet, it was all off. Maybe if she knew anything about her past everything would fall in place. The doubt, the fear, the longing to be back in that cold hell. 

Her head tapped against the wall. The void in her was even more unknowable. There was a piece of her missing, but its shape was amorphous. Out in the entire universe, in all the universes, there was something that would make her whole again, she prayed that it was the truth. 

* * *

Wraith's wrapped fist slammed into the bag again with a low thud. Her shin followed in a similar strike, lightning-fast and precisely aimed. 

She returned to her defense stance, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Void practice hadn't actually taken that long, and what better way to vent her frustrations than punch something that she could project on to. Another series of blows buffeted the bag. 

Most wouldn't recognize her in her current state. Gone was the black combat boots and tight jacket and in were a set of baggy sweats and outdated headphones. 

Right now, that bag was a "journalist" who sent Wraith forty-six emails a day looking for a story. That annoying bastard was given the exclusive of three punches to his approximate gut. 

The degree to which the tabloids speculated about high profile contestants was staggering. There was the usual "who are they hooking up with" and "what deep dark secrets do they keep", but also very specific things about their tastes in music, favorite colors, weird listicles that supposedly matched contestants to types of cheese. Wraith was almost unanimously assumed to be some kind of angst-filled punk with a broken heart. To that end, this intrepid tabloid writer had complied a playlist of music that Wraith almost certainly listened to. It was rather popular evidently, however, way off the mark. The playlist consisted of angry and dreary songs about loneliness and heartache, how no one understood the singer. 

Wraith preferred classical music instead. For some reason, the melodies, composed sometimes over a millennia ago, managed to calm the void within her. The gentle swells of strings and ethereal sounds of woodwinds moved through her like waves. Even now, beating the hell out of a punching bag, the music kept her calm. Shards of her past were buried deep inside her mind like the memories of dreams, music seemed to highlight the path. Occasionally there'd be a flash of something, a fragment of what had once been a life, her life, someone's eyes looking into hers, a strange word drifting through her consciousness, or a fleeting ghost of touch on her skin. She often wondered if the woman she had been liked this kind of music too. There was also the benefit that it blocked out the rest of the world, allowing her to forget there were other people in the gym. Other people who were probably watching her, judging her. 

The particular piece for this work out was more of a recreation of the classical genre, written only some eighty years ago, meant to echo the changing of the seasons. The strings fell to silence and a piano carried the tune in haunting solitude, interrupted by the dull thuds of her fists on leather. It even managed to keep the voices down, or at least drowned out. A few more strikes rocked the bag as the song swelled again. The strings returned in the warm triumph of spring. Energy returned to the piece and with it, to Wraith's punches. She was so lost in the moment, she ignored the voices murmuring. 

_**"Behind you..." **_One managed to breakthrough. 

Wraith wheeled around and came face to chest with Bloodhound. Her heart jolted into her throat. 

They said something. _Why is it so muffled? Oh, right, music._

"What?" Wraith fought her body's attempt to flush blood to her cheeks.

"I had asked if you are looking for a sparring partner. Mine has been sick for several days." Their voice had a distinct rhythm to it, almost like poetry, rendering it both beautiful and unnerving. 

This was absolutely a test. Bloodhound was almost better known for their stalking and observing as their combat prowess. The more important matter, however, was what the correct answer was. 

"Sure." _I've got nothing to lose here._ That was unless Bloodhound killed her. Rumors circulated about "accidents" where one contestant would "take a bad fall" in a sparring match and wind up dead. From her very limited experience with them, Bloodhound didn't seem the type, but the list of things anyone knew for sure about the hunter could be counted off on one hand that had held a frag grenade for too long. 

They lead Wraith over to the small padded ring and picked up a training knife. It was a plastic blade with a current running through it, not anywhere lethal, but enough to ensure any contact was noticed. Wraith tossed the blade around, finding its balance, its lightness making it difficult to handle. When she looked up, Bloodhound had entered the ring, much of their heavy gear, but retaining their distinct mask.

Wraith discarded her own sweatshirt, glad she'd still chosen to wear a long-sleeved exercise shirt beneath. It had the dual benefits of concealing her appearance and insulating her from the constant chill of the void running through her. 

"I must warn you Wraith, I do not intend to fight with caution, provide me the same honor." They held the knife perfectly vertically, almost as if it were a ritual. Wraith gave a nod of understanding. 

She lunged forward, her blade leading the charge. But the hunter was just as quick. They juked aside and attempted a counterattack, the blade missing Wraith's body by the narrowest of margins. Both their movements were precise and blindingly fast, each seeming to anticipate the other's strategy. Knives whizzed through the air and crackled against loose fabric, accompanied by the harsh breaths and grunts of exertion. 

Even the voices shouldn't keep up with Bloodhound, their attacks too fast for the warnings to get out in time. A sweeping blow came from above, toppling Wraith to the ground, both her forearms barely able to stop the hunters strike.

"The Gods have blessed you with speed and strength." Unlike Wraith, Bloodhound didn't seem out of breath, their voice the same calm it always was.

Wraith didn't provide a response other than shoving back with all her might and springing back to her feet. A racing heart beat in her ears, almost managing to drown out the murmur of voices. She wiped the sweat from her brow. 

A new strategy would be required to take down the hunter, but Wraith didn't know what it was. The relentless press of attacks kept her mind occupied on survival rather than victory, constantly keeping her on the back foot. Her own retaliations were deflected before they could even make contact with Bloodhound's clothes. In desperation, she swung her leg in a wide arc, catching the hunter off guard. Their momentary stumble appeared to be just the chance she needed.

Wraith thrust her knife for Bloodhound's throat. Millimeters from victory, her wrist was grabbed. Before she even fully registered the grab, her arm was twisted behind her back, the force and pain dropping her to her knees. The flat of the blade pressed against her throat, she was at their mercy. Once again, she'd lost.

Her eyes jammed shut, ready for whatever the hunter was going to dish out. The force on her arm disappeared and with it, the blade at her neck. Opening her eyes, she saw a hand extended to her. Another test. 

"An impressive show of skill, Wraith." Bloodhound pulled Wraith to her feet, though there was no aggression in it, just support. "Had I been tired or you not, perhaps this fight would have fallen the other way." It seemed to be a genuine statement. 

"Maybe." Wraith had no idea what to do with what may have been a compliment. "I think we all know just how good you are." She did her best to prevent her words from coming off as sarcastic. 

They placed a hand on Wraith's shoulder. It was almost brotherly. 

"This will not be the last we see of each other Wraith. The Gods willing, we shall again meet and put ourselves to the truest test." Were they suggesting they _want_ to fight Wraith for real? That was a little unnerving, to say the least. Plenty of people had threatened to just kill her, that was part of the job. But desiring a "fair" fight was weird even for Bloodhound.

"I'd rather not have to take you on." Wraith wondered if flattery would spare or damn her. "But if it comes to that, hope you're ready." A show of strength and confidence was just as much of an unknown.

"I share your sentiments Wraith. You have given me much to consider." Whatever that meant, it probably wasn't good. "I have other matters to attend to, enjoy your evening, Wraith."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, constructive criticism and feedback are welcome and appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: short but graphic depictions of severe frostbite and medical procedures including the removal of dead tissue.
> 
> Wraith is not in a good place. The voices and continue to berate her for failure and she begins to doubt the few people she still talks to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically two long conversations between Ajay and Wraith for purposes of character building and a bit of angst for Wraith.

Breakfast was a meal that almost always consisted solely of a cold bagel, but today Wraith had opted to go to the Caff and grab something warm, it seemed nice after yet another exhausting night of training. Powdered flyer eggs and what was allegedly bacon were today's menu, served with some local fruit juice and very very cheap coffee. It all smelled more or less right, at least what Wraith assumed was right, and the taste was the standard Caff over salted blandness. The coffee, however, tasted pretty close to drain cleaner, just how she liked it. 

Coffee was a mixed blessing. Wraith had only discovered, or more than likely rediscovered it a couple weeks ago. The bitterness was offputting at first, but she'd settled into it and come to crave the stuff. It had allowed her to compensate for lack of sleep and utilize nearly thirteen hours of the day for training. However, the downside came in the form of its newfound necessity. A morning without a mug of it was a rather unpleasant experience for all involved. Good coffee was also moderately expensive and though Wraith had a significant amount of credits stashed away from her victories, but she was very stingy. At some point in the vague future, she would need it she told herself. 

Almost immediately Wraith regretted coming down for breakfast, and it wasn't because the eggs were undercooked. Witt was patrolling again. She'd noticed him looking at her a few times, prompting him to immediately look away. Mostly it made her uncomfortable. He wasn't really creepy, it was just she didn't know how to process the idea of someone being attracted to her. Appearances were never something Wraith put much thought into. Toss on some dark colored outfit with long sleeves, throw hair into a rough bun, make sure boots are tied was the checklist. On the personal level, Wraith didn't consider herself attractive or unattractive, she just sort of existed. The idea of making the wrong choice with Witt and heading down a miserable road ricocheted around in her mind. 

To her annoyance, he was looking at her again. This time, he got up and started to walk towards her. Possible hostile lines ran through her head, a simple "fuck off" would likely suffice. 

"Ayy Wraith, don't see ya' down here much anymore!" Ajay unintentionally came to her rescue. The medic dropped herself into the seat opposite Wraith, enough to make Witt attempt a causal 180.

"Morning." Wraith stabbed at the eggs. "I usually eat alone, its a lot quicker." They were so undercooked and watery that the fork served only to slip right through them without collecting any. A spoon would have been a more appropriate instrument, but who grabs a spoon to eat eggs? It was too late to change utensil anyways. 

"It's quicker, but not good for ya'. Ya' gotta talk to people, Wraith. I was getting worried about ya' when I hadn't seen ya' around, was actually planning on checking your room if I didn't see ya' again." A pang of guilt hit Wraith.

She'd been actively avoiding _everyone_ for two days now. It was shame mostly, having to look at people who knew that she was a failure, and fear of the few she considered anything approaching a friend rejecting her. Not that she had anyone she considered over an acquaintance, but there was only so much loneliness even she could take. 

"I-I've been training." Not technically a lie. "I can't afford to lose again, so I've focused on getting better." She made scoop at the eggs this time able to hold some of the larger chunks on the fork. Their taste was fine, but the texture was revolting. Ajay's plate had something more solid on it, but Wraith couldn't identify what it was supposed to be, a vague meat patty of some kind. She made it a point to subtly avoid Ajay's eyes. There was so much emotion and empathy that she carried in those deep browns that Wraith knew would stab into her, letting loose a flow of her regrets. 

"Doesn't change that ya' need to talk to people. It can help ya' when things get rough." There was the characteristic brightness in her voice. It was perfect for her role as a healer, encouraging without being demeaning and genuine in its sincerity. "Ya' look rough, have ya' been sleeping well?"

"I don't need a checkup, I'm fine." Her tone was more apathetic than aggressive. If Ajay got going on an exam she'd probably come out with a laundry list of diagnoses and ailments requiring treatment. Her head alone could probably keep any medical professional occupied for days. It probably bore a resemblance to the soupy scrambled eggs that had flooded the entire volume of her plate. Understandably, Wraith also had a distrust of anyone with a needle. 

"We have different definitions of 'fine' then. Ya' look like hell, Wraith, I don't wanna see ya' get hurt out there because of somethin' stupid. Just tell me when ya' ready to talk."

Two parts of Wraith were at war. There was the side the Void encouraged, the one instigated by the Voidwalker. That was what compelled her to wear her skin as armor and wield her words as weapons, no one was permitted closer than arm's length and absolutely no one was allowed access to any of her pain. But there was a weaker yet persistent part of her as well, one she suspected belonged to whoever she was before she was Wraith. Part of her wanted to heal, to feel the warmth a friend could provide, or even just a gentle touch on her skin. Almost invariably, the majority ruled. The voices knew how to twist an arm.

"I'm just not sleeping well, alright?"

Those rich brown eyes studied her for a moment. Wraith knew what Ajay was fixating on, dark circles around half-closed eyes, her paler than usual skin, the slouch in her shoulders. Ajay pulled day and a half shifts regularly, but somehow she always looked great. Her skin was always its glowing shade of brown and her face friendly as ever. 

"I've got meds for that in the clinic if ya' need 'em. Ya' might want to lay off the coffee a bit too. Try some decaff, its good for ya'. Also, I know how late ya' stay up training, give that a rest." She knew Ajay was just doing her job, just trying to be helpful, but damn if it wasn't grinding on Wraith like sand. 

"Thanks, but I'm fine. If I need something I'll ask for it." She defiantly took a gulp of her coffee. 

Ajay just sighed. 

"How about we talk 'bout something else. Ya' read much, Wraith? I'm 'about two thirds through a novel ya' might like. It's about fantasy stuff, bit of a mystery flare to it. Bloth always has somethin' good in their library if ya' don't have anything."

_ **They're looking right at you!** _

_Who?_ There had to be two hundred people in the Caff, trying to figure out which one the voices were taking issue with would be next to impossible. 

_ **They're watching you!** _

Wraith tried to subtly scan around the room, but no one stood out. At least the person so far didn't seem to be a threat. In all likelihood, this was another case of the voices being scared of something from their dimension that wasn't true in hers. For weeks after she'd escaped the facility, one voice had constantly called out small lizards that could "spit acid". The worst they ever did was nip at her while she slept. 

Uhhhh..." Right, books. Wraith tried to remember the last thing she read that wasn't a military handbook she'd "borrowed" from Anita. "I can't say I read much. Don't have time for that kind of thing."

"Wraith, I work in the clinic, train and compete as much as ya', and I still have time for hobbies. Doesn't matter what it is, but its good for ya' to have one. Try knitting, I'm no good at it, but it's calming as anything. There's also climbing if ya' want something more physical." She gauged Wraith's nonreaction. "But there's a ton more out there, just gotta find one ya' like." Her voice had that slow precise cadence of someone who's frustration was increasing rapidly. 

"I said I was fine and I don't remember asking for advice." Wraith growled. Before the words had even fully left her mouth she was kicking herself internally. Arms-length was one thing, but raw aggression to Ajay was not her intent. "Maybe this is just how I am and I don't need to be _fucking_ fixed. Just stop, ok?"

Ajay's face contorted in shock, but Wraith couldn't stop her attack now. 

"Just because you stitch me together a couple times doesn't make us friends and it sure as fuck doesn't give you the right to lecture me about myself!" There was no time to take the words back. Ajay stood and left, giving Wraith the solitude that she desired.

And she hated it. 

* * *

Through her music and from her eavesdroppings on conversations, Wraith had gathered that to dream was to escape. People dreamed of wonderful fantasy worlds, lovers left behind, and futures to obtain. Somewhere, she'd heard it asked what was the point of living without these momentary escapes from the real? However, dreams did not come to Wraith as they did to most. On the rare nights where she slept enough to have something one might call a dream, they were more real than she'd like. For all her attempts to compartmentalize and forget, the void would intrude on every hour of her life, waking and otherwise. Her dreams were like the memories of a ghost. She'd wander through an event, unable to see her own body and apparently unseen by everyone, forced to watch the universally unpleasant moments unfold. In that state, she was powerless to intervene or even provide her own crude comfort. Voices tore her from tormented sleep, shouting over each other about some imminent threat. They never allowed her rest even after she'd embraced them. For some reason, they couldn't ignore dreams. 

_ **"It's not safe here!"** _

_ **"Danger nearby!"** _

"It's just another dream, calm down." She grumbled but their chatter continued. "Just stop!"

_ **"You need to hide!"** _

_ **"They're right above you!** _

_ **"This place isn't safe!"** _

But the voices continued to call out the fantasy dangers. A glance at the clock revealed it to be just past three in the morning, her tiny window to get any real sleep was gone. 

"Just one night, please...please." She begged to whatever power could allow her to rest for just a few hours. No one would listen of course, no one cared enough about the science project to change anything."FINE! I'M FUCKING AWAKE!" 

Wraith's body slouched. She was screaming out loud again. Being seen as aloof and scary was one thing, full bore crazy was another. 

With a head swimming with regrets and voices and nothing else to do, Wraith had committed to Void practice. As if the universe was hoping to kick her while she was down, it was going horribly. 

_ **Get that medic out of your head! Friends and shit like that only slow you down!** _

"I know." Wraith growled at the voice.

_**In the arena, you cannot have anything to lose and you cannot hesitate to pull the trigger on anyone. You might think she cares about you, but she'll put you in the dirt without a second thought, trust me. You need to deal with her.**_Fury's tone scared the living hell out of her. Something in the way she said "deal with" gave Wraith the feeling that in the other dimension, Ajay was dead, most likely by her hand.

Wraith gave a token sound of agreement, though inside she had yet to really decide how to "deal with" Ajay. 

As usual, the first end of the portal was easy enough to manifest. A chill ran through her body heading down her outstretched arm before the Void energy separated from her fingers. It felt like pulling her hand from a thick oil, some of the sensation sticking to her. 

Stepping into the Void had changed some since her first venture into nothing. It wasn't so much a never-ending abyss of black as an amorphous sea of deep blue like the darkest night Wraith had ever seen. The Void was not empty either, there were strange monolithic pillars that created a strange forest through the subtle hills of the Void. Wraith didn't know if her eyes had learned what to look for or if the Void had truly changed, but it was in a way beautiful now. 

With these practices, she'd found that taking her time was a far more beneficial strategy than attempting to rush it. She would slowly pace through the Void and allow the cold to simply run through her as she searched for the way out. Even the screaming voices were calmed by her more restrained pace. No longer was her head bombarded with dozens of simultaneous warnings, instead, there were glimpses into the lives of other Wraiths. These small snippets of their days provided her with hope for her future, so many of her were happy and content. A Wraith she often envied was huddled next to a fireplace, someone in her arms, her face at absolute peace. 

_**You're in danger, you need to leave now!**_A voice stabbed into the Void.

"What? I can't be hurt here, can I?" She'd been under the impression that the Void was her safe place to retreat to, the idea that something or someone else could reach it shattered that illusion.

_ **The Void is shifting, you're not ready for this! RUN! ** _

Wraith heard a sound, unlike anything she could remember, a deep sucking rumble that seemed to be approaching and fast. Beneath her feet the Void lurched, knocking her down. By the time she was on her feet and sprinting for an escape, the rumble was deafening. 

In an instant, the ground was gone and Wraith fell. Fell into something more empty than the Void as deep blue faded to the purest black she'd ever seen. There was no sensation except cold. No acceleration or wind, no sound, just a more and more suffocating freeze. Consciousness threatened to leave her as a sensation like sinking in water took over the last of her senses. 

Whatever this was, it wasn't all that bad. All of the pain she didn't know she carried had lifted. The tightness in her muscles and sores on her joints, the constant headaches, all were relieved for this pure nothing. Maybe the Void was to finally claim her, leave her dead to the world. There were worse fates. 

She lingered there for what felt like hours. Even her thoughts had left her as she floated through the Void. Sensation returned in the form of a harsh impact on her side and the sound of her body crunching against the unforgiving steel of her floor. Where the Void usually left frost on her possessions, full patches of ice grew. Running up her arm from the bracer there were the same icy formations, hard to the touch. Wraith could feel frost on every inch of exposed skin. 

Like the Void, she didn't know how long she laid there, feeling the tickle of the ice slowly melt off her and the burning as she realized how much damage had been done to her. 

"What happened?" She mumbled, to her surprise, a voice actually answered. 

_ **The Void shifted again, it's no place for the living. You're lucky to be alive. ** _

Lucky was it? Lucky to have a power she couldn't control, to have a head full of voices, to have no idea who the fuck she was? For one reason or another, she was alive. At the very least she had purpose for now. And if she was going to fulfill her use, she needed to get the patches of darkened and frozen flesh looked at. 

* * *

Hours later, the blackened skin remained and burned like it was soaked in napalm where she still felt anything. The skin had peeled off around the patches of dead and wrinkled flesh, leaving oozing wounds. She needed to have this looked at when it first happened.

_Stupid stupid fucking stupid! _She cursed herself _Just go when it happens and it's fine, I'm just too fucking broken to get help even for this shit!_

**_I'm not going to disagree_**Fury seemed to enjoy indulging in Wraith's self-hate

"Oh fuck off, I don't want to talk to yo-ahhhh!" She'd tried to move her arm, but found her hand was completely useless and it too had started to burn. "I'm going to the clinic so go bitch at some other Wraith." 

It was ungodly early in the morning, but at least the clinic was always open. She'd thrown on some sweats and her scarf and was working on a good lie about how this had happened to her. The nature of her powers was her most precious secret. 

Maybe claiming a liquid nitrogen spill was an adequate excuse. Just as Wraith entered the door and began to refine her tall tale, she realized that she could have checked the schedule for the clinic. Her heart was punched into her gut and another wave of ice fired up her spine. 

"Hey, Ajay." Flopped out awkwardly. 

The medic had her back to the door and was dressed in her usual scrubs, though abnormally free of stains since the match had been canceled on account of weather. Her body decompressed in that fed up kind of way when she heard Wraith's voice. 

"What do ya' need?" She did her best to maintain a neutral tone, Wraith appreciated the gesture. 

"I kind of...well...I did this to my arm." 

It was all off balance. For all her claims of being prepared, Wraith was not ready to talk to Ajay again. That would require several days of mentally beating the crap out of herself and precisely rehearsing the words for her attempt at redemption before giving up on that out of fear before settling on attempting to continue on like nothing happened. 

"Hell Wraith, how'd ya' freeze it like this? Tell me ya' ain't messing with Gletscher!" She'd seized the other woman's arm and inspected it like an object rather than a limb still attached to a person. But what caught Wraith's attention was the concern in her voice. Despite what she'd said to her, Ajay was still worried. 

"What? Is that a drug or something?" Ajay nodded. "No, I don't like anything that makes me lose control. I was..."

_**Don't you fucking dare! **_Fury railed against her telling the truth.

"It was Void stuff." 

_ **You're hopeless** _

Her medic regarded her suspiciously, repeating the phrase "Void stuff" back to her before motioning Wraith to take a seat on the table. She rifled through a drawer, before aggressively slamming it just and tearing open another. A few syringes and silvery instruments were tossed onto the tabletop, Ajay mumbling to herself the whole time. 

"It's cold in there and I encountered something I wasn't used to. This usually doesn't happen." Ajay gave a token 'mm-hmm' still focused on her tools. "And Ajay..." Wraith collected her words. The medic paused her search.

_ **If you even consider apologizing, you're dead to me!** _

"You were...I didn't...shit, sorry." She let out a long breath. "I acted like, no I was a bitch to you for no reason. You don't have to forgive me, but you didn't deserve that from me. I'm sorry. Like, I...what I said was really mean for no reason and, sorry I suck at this. I'm trying to mean it, I just-"

"Wraith." Ajay cut her off and turned around. "What ya' said hurt, a lot. I'd call ya' a friend and I don't really wanna talk right now, but I hate seein' ya' like this. I'm still pissed with ya', but right now, so I need ya' to shut ya'self so ya' can keep ya' arm. Do ya accept any treatment deemed necessary by ya' doctor?" Wraith nodded at the standard waiver. She didn't give any warning when she stabbed a vial of something into Wraith's bicep.

She gasped at the surprise, the needle was larger than most. Numbness ran down her arm before it fell totally limp. And now her head was burning and spinning, what was that stuff? Ajay started wiping the damaged tissue with something that felt like sandpaper but Wraith was too dazed to complain. Another set of injections at the burn didn't even register to her.

"Here, put this in ya' teeth, this might hurt a lot." She gave Wraith a leather strap. "And if ya' squeamish, don't look."

Ajay pulled out a tool that looked like a pen with a large 'V' shaped blade at the end. When it made contact with Wraith's skin, smoke rose up and a smell like burning pork and rubber filled her nose. She couldn't move her body, let alone the arm that Ajay had pinned to the table as she traced the outside of the damage with her implement. There was no sensation except a blurred pressure and the deep and primal instinct to tear the injured arm away.

"Wahhh, waahhh yuuuuu doooiinnn?" Wraith's words were slurred, spilling over her lips like a liquid. The leather piece fell into her lap unneeded. 

"Removin the damaged tissue so ya' can heal. I gave ya a lot of pain killers, and before ya' say anything, I didn't ask because ya' were gonna make this harder, so just sit." She was laser-focused on her work, Wraith's confusion an afterthought. As usual, she was subtly tapping out a beat with her foot. This was a new one for her, a bit more anxious than her usual bombast. 

A mass of oozing and blackened arm was dumped into an aluminum tray and Ajay took out a scalpel for the finishing touches. Wraith couldn't bring herself to look as Ajay flawlessly cut only the slightest distance into the healthy flesh, warm and living blood flowing into the chasm on her forearm. Several more injections were delivered and a layer of some kind of green mesh was laid into the wound. The whole thing was wrapped into bandages, even without any feeling, Wraith could tell they were tight. 

"Ya' lucky I grew up with the cold. Too many of the sawbones here would have been jumpin at the chance to cut ya arm off, I'm gonna give ya some meds. Take 'em or I will have to get out my saws, ya hear me?" She shoved a bottle of pills into Wraith's chest. She wrapped her good fingers around it.

Ajay summoned D.O.C. over and plugged one of its tendrils into a vein in Wraith's elbow. A familiar cooling sensation ran down her arm, she swore she could feel it healing her. 

"Yeeeaaaaahhhhhh." Though her mind was functioning fine, Wraith could not get her body or mouth to obey. The voices had also stayed quiet the entire time she had a knife buried in her arm. Maybe those painkillers had potential for sleeping. 

Ajay made Wraith lay down and fired yet another syringe into her upper arm and set to work disposing of the piece of Wraith she'd extracted. Watching her clean her tools was almost like watching a painter with her brushes, there was a care and love for the tools of the trade that mixed with the vigor required for proper cleaning. 

"Wraith, I know ya' got problems. Maybe I shouldn't 'ave pushed ya like that. I've seen what's on ya arm when ya first came in here." It was like Ajay had just told her she'd found naked pictures of her posted in public. What she was talking about was what the IMC had left her with as a parting gift. 

Nine small metal discs were arrayed in a diamond on her shoulder, perfectly level with her pale skin. Below it lay a tattoo that spanned her entire bicep. It was a bit faded and stretched, thin scars crisscrossed over it, but the text was unmistakable. 

_P**ROPERTY IMC ARES DIVISION**_

** _ASSET 61137_ **

It was underscored with a barcode. Aside from Ajay, there was no one that had ever seen those, nor the surgical scars where the IMC had done who knows what to her insides, nor the place at the bottom of her neck where a cable connected her brain to the bracer. There were more of those disks on her thighs and shins, all some metal she hadn't identified but whatever it was, it was durable and not going to come out easily. As best as she could tell, they helped to harness the flow of the Void. 

"But we all got our problems. No one here comes from the best place, most of us come here to run away, some of us to die. So I understand ya' in pain, and ya' apologizing means somethin." She placed a hand on Wraith's good shoulder. It had been so long since someone had given her a touch that wasn't a punch or a grab at her ass. The hand felt at once weightless and carrying the weight of everything in the world. And all too soon she let go. 

"I am sorrrry." Her words were forming better now. "Why are youuuu here then?" Wraith winced internally. She had to get better at choosing her words, if she didn't like talking about her damage, no one else would want to talk about theirs. 

The medic sighed, fiddled with her scalpel a bit and looked off at nothing. For the life of her, Wraith couldn't comprehend why Ajay did what she did next. 

"Ya' ever cut someone out, Wraith? Someone who was important to ya', but they just did something ya' just couldn't live with?" She looked intently at Wraith, hoping for some validation.

"No. I've never really had anyone close." The words fell out slowly and deliberately, it burned to say it aloud. "It must be hard, realizing someone you looked up to isn't what you wanted them to be. I guess it'd make you question yourself, if you had the same problems as them and you just didn't want to admit it. I'm rambling aren't I, sorry." Wraith looked down at the bandages on her arm. They'd soaked up a good deal of blood.

_Nice work Wraith. Can you not fuck up a conversation just one time? Stupid fucking rambles, no one likes to hear you speak._

"Ya' good Wraith. It's a lot like that, 'specially since it was family. Ya' mind if I get a few things off my chest? I don't want to get ya' down more. Maybe it will do us both some good."

It was the first time Wraith had heard any vulnerability in her voice, Ajay had always been the confident and self-assured sort. There wasn't an injury short of decapitation she couldn't heal while simultaneously drumming out a rather catchy beat on her DOC drone. From the clips of Ajay in combat she'd seen, she was only slightly more adept at saving lives than taking them. The woman was a surgeon with a Mozambique and downright scary with an Alternator. 

"No, it's fine. I just don't know how much help I'll be." Managing her own scattered emotions and thoughts was a challenge in and of itself, as for those of others, that was something rarely attempted. 

"Thanks, Wraith." She placed her hand on Wraith's forearm, the touch again too brief for her liking, but she wasn't going to tell Ajay that. "Ok, here it goes, this might be a bit of a drag. My family goes back a long time in the Frontier, some of the original settlers were my ancestors. The story goes that we Ches built ourselves up from nothing with hard work and smarts. It's kinda true. The Frontier's always been a violent place, rival factions were warring with each otha' way before the IMC rolled in." 

The history lesson was appreciated, Wraith truthfully knew almost nothing about the Frontier. Just like her own past, it was an enigma to her, but one that could be uncovered at least. 

"The Che family started sellin' arms to them. Always to both sides. By the time ya' get to Ajay Che, we'd built an empire across the whole Frontier. My parents made a killin' off killin'. IMC and rebels both bought our guns and they were happy to stoke the fightin' to make the war drag on. I don't want to know how many families mine ruined. I was too little to get most of it, all of it was just business. Mother wanted me to be just like her. She'd go to someone who was fightin' and convince them the Che's cared about their cause, and having that kind of power behind ya' was a mighty thing. Then she'd find who they were fightin' and give the same speech. I was always along for her trips, she'd talk about how the fight was for children like me. I was the future that needed protectin'. I thought she really loved me Wraith, but I was just anotha' tool for her to use."

Ajay's eyes locked on Wraith's. Tears of rage and regret shimmered in those rich brown eyes, they needed something, some sign of solidarity to keep on. She mimicked Ajay, cautiously grabbing onto her wrist. Was it better or worse to know why you were in pain? All of Wraith's hurt came from an unknown source, there was no love to miss, no person gone from her life, only the endless emptiness that was all she could remember. 

"It's alright. You can stop if you want to. But I'm listening if you need me, I had my life taken away too, but I can't even remember why they did it." The medic's hand clapped onto Wraith's as she sniffed away a sob. The awkward words seemed to work. "Here, if you need it." Wraith didn't expect Ajay to actually use her scarf to dry her eyes, though that might give her an excuse to finally wash it.

"Thanks, Wraith, ya' a good friend." The word glanced off Wraith. "I used to play a lota' video games online. There was a friend I made, his real name was Terris, lived on a place called Asteron. He talked about the war there, an uprisin' against the government was killin' by the thousands. There was no one doin' right in that war, rebels took no prisoners, they gassed cities for not joinin' their side; government firebombed rebel relief camps just to send a message. Terris wasn't on for weeks an' I got worried. I thought he was dead. An' then he sends me a picture of his home, shot t' hell, blood on the floors. He knew my name, he didn't have to tell me why he sent that. Mother told me we'd sold on Asteron, she was proud of it. Ya' should have heard her, so happy about the profits and much much 'product' we had moved there. I showed her the picture an' she just said 'it would be us or someone else, so why can't we be the ones makin' the money?' Seventeen years is a long time to ignore what ya' family did, but I guess it was finally real. I understood what we'd done because it was personal now. I know that's selfish, but..." She wiped away more tears. Wraith squeezed her Wrist tighter. "But I found a chance. Ya' ever hear of the Frontier Corps?" 

Wraith nodded.

"Yeah, they're a relief group. They do humanitarian work in warzones I think." 

"Thas right. I joined up with 'em, tryin' to find redemption. They're good people, there's a lot of good people out there Wraith, but the bad ones just got all the guns. That's why I'm here, I know how to fight and anything I win they get. No one here is innocent, they all done something wrong to be in the games, good people don't just kill. I don't mean that ya' a bad person, Wraith, jus' that nobody here..." She searched for the right words.

"I get it. If it came down to it, there's no one here you wouldn't put down to get what you want. But if I'm ever in your way, maybe just knock me out." Wraith attempted to interject a bit of humor. The faint chuckle from Ajay was reassuring. 

"Only if ya' do the same for me, don't want the Games to lose the best medic they got!" Her carefree tone was back, but the tears still lingered in her eyes and the lump in her throat. "What I was tryin' to say wit all that was I left my family seven years ago today. There aren't that many people who know about where I came from, lotta people would kill a Che on sight if they knew I was that kinda' Che. Ya' know what it's like to try an' outlive ya' past, all we can do is use it and be better than it. Ya' real sweet to listen like that Wraith." She gave a warm smile.

Sweet? That was an adjective that Wraith had never had directed at her. Usually, it was "cold" or "weird" or "scary". 

_**"You know her weakness now, remember that." **_One of the crueler voices called out.

_**"She's emotional, kiss her now, take her!" **_And there was the horny one. Was Ajay actually flirting with her? No. Basic human kindness was not flirtation she reminded herself. She kicked that affection starved part of herself back into its dark corner. 

"Anytime. All I can do is listen. I'm not good at talking." Once again the words that came out of her mouth frustrated her. "We aren't defined by our past, it's about the choices we make and the roads we choose. What you're doing right now is all that matters Ajay, your family made their choices and you chose a different path, all that makes you is your own person. You're an awesome person Ajay. There are so many people you've helped just by being here, that's worth a lot. You-you're the first person who ever really talked to me. I know that's stupid, but it meant something to me, and that's all that counts right? Using our lives to make other people better?" She tried to form a coherent, comforting statement amidst the voices incessant and conflicting demands.

"I get ya' Wraith. We both been down a bad road for a long time, I jus' don't know if I've ever really left it. Ya' can walk away from ya' past, but that ain't never gonna leave you." Pain had crept back into her voice.

"That shit that got put in me, that's my past. _Everything_ I know about myself is right there under my skin. I have no name, I'm not even a person but an asset, and firstly, the IMC owns me. I have to look at this every single day and trust me, I tried to cut it up, but this won't ever go away. No matter where I go or what I do, this is where I came from." She pressed her finger against her arm. "But everyone calls me "Wraith", and _no one_ controls me. Yeah, you're Ajay Che, daughter of arms dealers, but you're also Lifeline, badass combat medic who's making a difference because she cares. You're right, we all have our problems, maybe we can try and fix them together?"

Part of Wraith wanted Ajay to rip into her, leave her emotionally gutted on the floor. The pain would be real and it would be easy. Healing was a distant dream and one that would undoubtedly require Wraith to put herself through more hell. 

"Healer needs healing and the skirmisher is still runnin', life's kinda funny that way. I'd like that Wraith, say ya' come climbing with me sometime, I think ya'd like it, there's a great mountain not far from here. Ya' were still a bitch today, but I'll give ya' one freebie." She held up a fist for Wraith, which she gave a tap. "Tell ya what, ya get more sleep and I'll do the same, deal?"

"You got it." Wraith forced a smile, a crude, unpracticed motion, but for the first time she could remember, Wraith felt the spark of hope in her chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% on Ajay's last monologue, but we're going for it. A lot of me inserting HCs here like the aesthetic of the Void, some of Ajay's expanded past, and of course Wraith having permanent modifications from the IMC. There was a piece of fanart I saw a while ago that featured the bolts on her arms and legs and I just really liked the concept. 
> 
> For fans of Lifeline x Wraith, sorry, not my ship. It's sweet and has tons of potential, but darksparks is too damn cute. I do like the idea of Ajay and Renee being very good friends and Ajay getting a bit fed up with Wraith nearly getting herself killed on a daily basis. 
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome.


	6. Chapter 6: Squad Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With only a few weeks left in the season, Wraith is approached by a familiar face with an offer to join their squad. In need of support, she accepts and takes a road that she never expected to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided on ten chapters for Season 0/1, trying to accelerate a bit to catch up to S5, and more importantly S2 so I can get Wattson in here. Hoping S5's random love theme means something, ie we learn more about the Legend's personal lives, but who's to say.
> 
> This whole thing ended up being a bit more episodic than I wanted it to, chalk that up to sub-par planning and lack of beta reading. Trying to course correct that as well, but probably in too deep at this point at least for this section.

"Christ I heard you the first time I'm coming!" Wraith raged against the seemingly millionth set of knocks at her door. A post-workout shower had been abruptly interrupted, which was even more odd considering she never had visitors. Whoever was at that door better have a damned good reason. 

The steel door was practically wrenched from its frame to reveal a tall figure in elaborate hunting equipment.

"Good day Wraith, may I speak with you for a moment." Bloodhound's accented and electronically distorted voice fit their mysterious persona perfectly. They apparently paid no mind to the fact Wraith wore only sweats or that her still wet hair slopped in clumps around her face. 

"Uhhhhh, sure?" What in the name of hell did they want? "Sorry about the mess." She shuffled into her quarters. 

The room had devolved further over the past few days. Dishes were left in a rough stack by the sink, her clean clothes lived in the laundry basket if they weren't strewn over a chair and the dirty ones resided in a pile. Keeping up with dust was a distant dream. Most of the furniture had been removed as well. Wraith had no use for the couch or extra dining chairs, so they were returned to storage, the extra room was sufficient for void practice. Still the only decoration, the wall of names and faces garnered the attention of the uninvited guest. 

"I recognize some of these. People whose lives you have claimed?" That mask made it even harder to track emotion in Bloodhounds voice, but Wraith guessed they were curious, not judgemental. 

"Yeah. It was...is something I thought I should do." Wraith maintained her flat tone. No weakness or doubt was to be revealed to the Legend. "If this is about that last match, I don't really have anything to repay you with." 

Bloodhound let out a small chuckle. 

"Nothing is required. I spared your life as it was not yet your time. There is no honor in seeking repayment." They paced around, apparently wanting to take in everything. Information was just as valuable in the arena as a weapon. Wraith had just allowed a hunter into her nest. "What do you know of Makoa Gibraltar?"

Wonderful, another test. Everyone knew Gibraltar, behind Bloodhound, he was one of the Game's most accomplished legends. His massive size and devastating kit demanded respect. The moniker of "Shielded Fortress" had seemed fitting enough to attach to him permanently. 

"I've seen some of his matches. Clearly powerful, knows how to use a choke point." If Bloodhound desired to play games, then Wraith would play. She'd play dumb and a bit coy, maybe she could pull some info from the hunter themself. "You two squad up often, seem to work well together."

"A fair assessment of Gibraltar the competitor, but what of Makoa the man?" In truth, Wraith knew next to nothing about him outside what he's said in interviews. She was reasonably sure that he also lived in C tower, but she'd never said a word to him on the few occasions they crossed paths. 

"Local boy, SARAS member, people seem to like him. Says he cares more about helping people than killing, not sure how that works in the Games." That last comment may have been too risky. "I think I met his boyfriend once, seemed nice." A messy recovery at best. 

Bloodhound stared at her a moment, or at least the lenses of their mask pointed in her direction. 

"Makoa and I have found many victories together, but a problem has arisen." They paced around Wraith. "The Games have changed. No longer can two stand against three, we seek to recruit a partner. For our efforts, we have been rewarded with disappointment. Very few can find my attention, and fewer still can make a good impression on Makoa." They were in front of Wraith now, looking down into her eyes, her confused expression reflected in those lenses. 

"I'm the new prospect aren't I?" 

"Yes." The thought flooded Wraith with doubt. These two were among the best, no, _the _best, and they wanted her. A crazy woman who could barely scrape through most fights and didn't like people.

"I don't understand. Why me?" 

Bloodhound resumed their pacing. It occurred to Wraith she had never offered them a seat, though there was only a single seat to be had. When she gestured towards the steel chair, the hunter shook their head. 

"From your first match, I was intrigued. Your abilities surprised us all. I saw in you a drive, a fight for something more valuable than gold and more permanent than glory. You did not fight for your life, but with your life. To observe your combat was an honor. Skill is not an uncommon trait, decisiveness and wits are. Makoa was harder to sway. He believed you too violent and antisocial." 

_He's not wrong there_. The thought of her loss ran through her mind. He'd seen her leave a man to die without a second thought. What was their game here? And what did Gibraltar see in a self-appointed outcast like Wraith?

"Makoa is a friend of Ajay Che. She spoke well of you, your own friendship to her was deeply valued. I will not share her words, but be assured she speaks highly of you in private." Wraith had no idea Ajay even thought of her at all like that. Even after her midnight treatment, she hadn't said much to Ajay and all the terrible things she had said to her still echoed in her brain. "You lose with grace and dignity. This is a quality most admired by my partner. I say all this to extend to you our invitation to our match today."

Words were lost to her. They actually saw her as worthy. After all her fuck ups, all the stupid choices and bungled fights, _the_ Legends of the arena wanted to see what she had. With their help, she might actually live long enough to find that lab.

"Yes!" Way too excited. "I'm interested. What can I expect?" Restrained and cool, better. 

Bloodhound chuckled again.

"We fight hard, choosing our targets well. Makoa leads our fight, listen to his guidance, but do speak up. We will fight with you and for you, the same is expected in return." 

Wraith pretended to consider. A fully formed squad was infinitely better than random idiots with assault rifles, the latter of which had provided Wraith a nearly universally negative experience. 

"See you on the dropship then." Wraith grasped Bloodhounds outstretched hand and shook it. 

* * *

Wraith was positioned on the designated platform of the dropship twirling her knife. Getting to the platforms early meant better positioning and some quiet from the buzz of the common areas. Each spin of the blade imparted just a sliver more focus on her. Wraith felt like that knife at times, stuck in an endless repeating path set on by some outside force, and tethered to it until she would break. The distinct clatter of Bloodhound's gear altered Wraith to their presence and next to them was a massive man. 

In-person, Gibraltar felt even larger than he already was. He had a solid foot of height on Wraith and each of his arms was probably heavier than her. Kindness and acceptance seemed to radiate off him like sunlight, the term gentle giant might be appropriate if Wraith hadn't seen him stack bodies with a Peacekeeper.

"Glad to have you onboard brotha!" He greeted her with an excited smack on the back, his strength was sufficient to stagger Wraith forward a few steps. "Lifeline and Bloth say you're the real deal, it takes a lot to impress me. I'll be watching."

"Let us not trouble her, there is enough on all of our minds already Makoa." Bloodhound's smooth voice contrasted with Makoa's booming resonance. 

"I'm just kidding, if they vouch for you, you've got something. Call the drop jumpmaster!" He smiled.

Admittedly, Wraith was nervous. Aside from the fact two Legends were counting on her and the usual fact that she could be shot in the head at any second, her forearm was still healing. Her bracer struggled to connect with the Void, always telling her the well was dry, and to make things worse, she couldn't phase. She'd tried for almost an hour, but the same instant she slipped into the Void, she was kicked out. Even the voices were mostly silent. 

"I'd rather do an easy drop today, been a while since my last match so I want to start cautious." She didn't dare tell them about her diminished powers. 

"A valid strategy, I trust you have prepared yourself."

Wraith nodded and counted down the remaining minutes to the drop.

As they rocketed towards Swamps, Bloodhound called out a single squad following them. Wraith and Bloodhound landed in the trees while Gibraltar made landfall just west of them. 

"Blood, Longbow!" Wraith tossed them the rifle.

It reported once and first blood was announced. She heard gunfire from the large building Gibraltar had taken and lept down with a RE-45 in her hand, splashing in the shin-deep swamp. Wraith kicked down the door just in time to see an enemy fall to the floor dead. Another shot rang out and Wraith turned to see the source next to her, one final foe with a now-empty P2020. He fell in a flurry of light rounds from Wraith's weapon. 

She saw an orange pulse pass through the area and heard Gibraltar reload his weapon. Swamps was among Wraith's least favorite locations to drop. It had little good loot, smelled like rotting dogshit, and left her with wet boots for the rest of the match, but with no help from the voices or her powers, she couldn't start aggressively. 

"The area is clear of hostiles." Bloodhound announced. "Wraith, you have been injured." As the adrenaline wore off and she touched her side, Wraith realized she'd been shot. It was a glancing wound but it was already beginning to become painful and more importantly, it was bleeding quite heavily. 

"I'll be fine, just need something to wrap it with."

"What were you thinking, jumping in without a plan or support?" Gibraltar came from around the corner.

"Saving you." Wraith spat. 

"I didn't need saving, you should have grabbed Bloth for support and let them recon. If you're going to hang with the best, you have to think before you fight, and Bloth, now _is _the time. The area is clear and the ring is far off." He stepped closer to Wraith and held out a syringe. "Heal up, think straight, and let's win this." He patted her shoulder and went to begin looting. 

"Thanks." Wraith mumbled. "There's a Peacekeeper back up there." She knew Gibraltar liked that weapon and maybe it would be the start of winning him over a bit. 

"Still nothing in sight." Bloodhound announced after pulsing their sonar. 

Repulsor and Hydro Dam were both empty but largely unlooted. A few corpses were scattered about the large industrial complex yielding some ammo and better armor. But that wasn't why Wraith was on edge. Not a single word from the voices had come through and now, she couldn't still even feel the Void. 

"It is a shame this tower was erected." They sighed at Repulsor Tower. Wraith cocked her head. "It prevents the Flyers and Leviathans from coming within some distance. They are magnificent creatures, to hunt them would be an honor."

Wraith felt quite the opposite. Three years of living alone constantly dodging falling Leviathan crap and evading Flyers trying to eat her was not a magnificent experience. Getting within the radius of the tower's effect had been a godsend. Though hunting Flyers had become her specialty. 

"The Flyers aren't easy prey. They can easily lift you into the air and they're dead silent when looking for a meal. Your best bet is hit them at dusk when they rest on warm rocks before their night hunts." Wraith said. That was a lesson she'd learned through trial and error. There were other concerns like their excellent night vision or habit of moving in flocks. 

"You have experience with them?" Bloodhound momentarily let their guard down and came to face Wraith. They surveyed her, almost like they were sizing her up as their next prey.

"I lived here for a while, they tried to kill me a lot." She didn't reveal anything new, she listed her homeworld as Solace on her entry application. 

"How did you hunt them?"

Gibraltar was looking at them suspiciously as well. The look on his face indicated this was unusual for his squadmate.

"This mostly." Wraith held up her kunai. "I lashed it to a stick to make a spear. Took a while to get a gun." It was a near miracle she still had that blade and her life.

They took a step forward towards her. 

"Heh, getting jealous there Bloth?" Gibraltar laughed.

"No, I am merely intrigued." They returned their gaze to Wraith, "Should we survive this, I would be honored to hunt with you. Only a hunter of great tenacity and patience could take down such prey without a firearm." 

"Could be fun, haven't gone hunting in a while." Getting on Bloodhound's good side was a top priority, even if it meant having to face down Flyers again. 

They clasped her forearm and she returned the gesture. Though their lenses betrayed no emotion, she swore she could feel appreciation in their grip.

The pool of contestants had been thinned to 17 and Bloodhound was aiming to make that 16. All three had made their way to Cascades with the ring threatening to push them to Bunker. All were well equipped with kitted out weapons and at least level two armor. For the entire match, Wraith was still without her powers, the only upside being they'd also encountered no other hostiles. 

"I am prepared to take the shot." Bloodhound adjusted their rooftop perch. 

_**S...iper...squad. Ri...t large build...cover now! **_A voice punched through, distorted and desperate.

"I think we're being targeted, that building down there." Wraith pointed at what she hoped the voice was referencing. 

"I don't see anything." Gibraltar said. "You sure?"

As if on cue, a grenade landed on the roof. Bloodhound darted away and Wraith tried to phase, but nothing happened. The blast threw both her and Gibraltar off the building. Automatic fire shredded the thin wooden walls as another grenade landed near them. 

"Gibraltar, move!" He took the brunt of the explosion, shielding her and crumpling behind a rock. 

The announcer called out the ring was moving and it was right behind them. By this round, the ring would kill them in seconds, especially the stricken Gibraltar. Bloodhound pulsed their sonar and found six enemies firing on them from two directions before sliding over to their squadmates. 

"We need to reach the river. Stay fast Makoa, we will prevail yet." 

Uninjured and with her powers Wraith probably couldn't phase a wounded Gibraltar, let alone both of them. She knew there was a single sliver of a chance to save her squad. The voices were returning, and maybe with them, the Void. She had to make a portal. Wraith tried to summon the Void, but there was nothing. No coldness, no pain, nothing. The alarm sounded, signaling the ring's constriction. The edge was in sight, just fifty yards away. 

"Come on!" She flicked her hand, trying to force any Void energy through it.

_ **Find serenity, let go** _

_ **Nothing phases you, your life is your greatest weapon**_

Wraith understood, the Void had no tolerance for fear. Pain, death, neither mattered. She stepped into the line of fire, bullets whizzing past her. Wraith held out her palm and grasped the Void. She tore it open, leaving a wound in space-time. It was as familiar as ever. The landscape of Kings Canyon was blanketed in the distortion of the Void and it's humid heat was replaced with bitter cold. Wraith sprinted and slid down the hill, feeling the Void trail behind her like a banner. She lept through a window of a building and grasped for the doorway in the Void. A shimmering ring of energy formed and Wraith shot out to find three very confused enemies. 

"Found you." She was feeling almost high on her victory over the Void. 

Wraith flipped the switch of her Prowler to automatic and shredded the first enemy before she even raised her weapon, her body falling in a wet thud. Bullets were coming from the remaining enemies, splintering the wooden walls. Wraith ducked into the Void again, emerging behind the second, Kunai drawn. He tried to pull his own knife, but the blade found his side and a moment later the barrel of an automatic pistol was shoved into his back. A quick burst dispatched him. There was an unnatural zipping sound and a voice told Wraith her squad made it through the portal just in time.

"Gotcha bitches!" The final enemy yelled and raised his Spitfire at Bloodhound and Gibraltar. 

Wraith dropkicked him through the portal and willed the Void to close it. The ring killed him before he could even process what had happened. 

_ **You're clear for now** _

"That was an impressive slátra of the enemy. Come, help me assist Makoa." Bloodhound said with admiration.

Wraith pushed herself off the floor and popped open a medkit before jabbing the needle into Gibraltar's side. The nanites and painkillers inside went to work as soon as they entered his blood, sealing wounds and stitching muscle back together. 

Wraith felt like she was weightless. She'd never had this much energy or felt this powerful. The Void had finally bent to her will and an entire squad was wiped before they could even touch her. Plus, she'd saved her injured and pinned down squad when no other Legend she knew could. 

"Someone is excited." Gibraltar's laugh was not impeded at all by his injuries.

"I've never done that before, the portal thing. I spent weeks trying to make it work, and I just did it. And I wiped that squad, so we're top five. Yeah, we can do this." Maybe it was Void energy, maybe it was adrenaline, but Wraith's body was buzzing.

Bloodhound pulsed their sonar while Gibraltar recharged his shields. There was something off in the way the stood when the signal returned.

"Ten enemies inhabit the Bunker in close proximity, but they have not engaged in combat. I believe that to be all of our opponents, perhaps they have allied themselves." Their voice carried a hint of concern.

"Wait, people can do that?" Wraith was confused.

"Yup, there's nothing in the rules that says anyone has to immediately start a fight. And now being able to win with incapacitation instead of kills, squads have started teaming up. If you think a two on three is hard, try three on six." Gibraltar said. "Bloth and I have been facing that a lot more lately, we're good, but not that good. And against ten, if they were outside this would be easy."

"Bloodhound, could you disable the terminal box for Bunker? I might have a way to force them out." 

They looked intrigued and Wraith relayed her ambitious plan. 

"On my mark." Bloodhound raised their Longbow. "Three, two, one, mark!"

A single shot shattered the fragile terminal box and Wraith rushed the Bunker. She opened the door and used the last of her reserves of Void to slip through it, all the way to the opposite door. Voices called out the enemies and how they saw her streak past, but none of them knew how to stop her. When she exited, Bunker was illuminated only with red emergency lights. They cast harsh shadows on the utilitarian structure and its unsure inhabitants. They were scattered through the rooms of Bunker, the closest squad practically within arms reach

Wraith tore the ignitor on one of her thermite grenades and dropped it behind her. Flames burst from it, blocking one of the two exits and casting Wraith in a demonic light of dancing hellfire. Voices screamed as a dozen pairs of eyes fell on her. 

"Looking for me? Here I am."

She opened up with the Prowler, its muzzle flash acting as a strobe, cutting the fall of her first foe into a staccato dance. While the other two were still reacting, she rushed in, shouldering one into the wall and shoving her blade into their gut. The third fired a shotgun blast into her side, his second shot jerked importantly into the ceiling as the last of her Prowler's magazine cut through his neck. 

Shouts of confusion and fear echoed through the reverberating gunshots. Wraith tossed another thermite out of the room, the small grenade clinking down the stairs before igniting. More screams came, this time of horror as some unseen foe was lit on fire. She heard the Bunker door open and a command to exit. Right into the waiting arms of Gibraltar's airstrike. 

Wraith reloaded her SMG and turned to the enemy she had stabbed. They groaned and coughed as she raised her weapon. They locked eyes through the HCOG. Familiar brown eyes stared back at her, Bangalore. Not a word was spoken, but her eyes were filled with meaning. Rage mixed with disappointment spun together with surprise. 

"Just pull the trigger." She spat. 

As the sound of explosions came muffled through the concrete, Wraith just kept her weapon leveled at Anita. Her finger tensed on the trigger. Thirty-five rounds lay waiting.

_ ** Kill her now  
** _ Blow that bitch's brains out  
_ ** Spare her  
** _ Make it slow

Wraith screamed and smashed the grip of her pistol on Anita's head. The helmet spared her life, but she lay on the ground unconscious. She didn't know what compelled her to do so, but there wasn't anything in her to pull the trigger. 

_ **Coward** _

A few scattered gunshots rang out and triumphant music played across the arena. But Wraith just kept looking at the incapacitated woman. She couldn't find it in her heart to hate her.

_"We have our Apex Campions!"_ Came the announcer's smooth voice. 

"Hell yeah brotha! That was some fine fighting out there Wraith, I wouldn't mind keeping you around." Gibraltar gave her another slap on the back onboard the evac shuttle. 

Bloodhound had already given her a few words of congratulations and praise before retreating to meditate. She saw Anita and a few other survivors on gurneys being attended to by Ajay. There was a special look on her face when she came to Anita's still unconscious form, Wraith guessed they must have been friends. Sparing her left Wraith conflicted. Part of her felt like she'd done something honorable, noble even, but another piece of her wondered if she was just putting her through more pain. Perhaps the others she'd killed were also her friends, or maybe like Wraith, Anita didn't mind the idea of dying. 

"Glad ya' not my problem this time Wraith!" Ajay waved at her from the medical area. "Makoa, get off ya' ass and help me would ya'?" She shouted over to Gibraltar. 

He shot a few words back and paced over to her, giving her a bear hug before donning gloves. Bloodhound returned to Wraith.

"Tonight Makoa and I shall celebrate our victory. If you care to join us, I will provide you a location." They turned to Wraith and poured more sincerity into their voice. "I do hope you attend, you have made an impression I hope to pursue."

"I'll think about it." Wraith said. Anything like this filled her with a sense of uncertainty and looming dread, but she really did want to understand Bloodhound more, maybe find herself a permanent spot in this squad. 

As her eyes returned to Ajay and Makoa, she wondered why she couldn't just be like them, cheerful and approachable. A simple dinner might be the first step on a road to change, she thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a Wraith main, Gibby is my nightmare. Why does this invincible SoB have to be so likable?
> 
> Anyways, I kind of see his relationship to Gibraltar as a funny man-straight man dynamic. Gibby is a big soft, lovable guy, and Bloodhound is their usual self. 
> 
> This chapter is vaguely inspired by my first win as Wraith and coincidentally the day I started maining Wraith because she's fun to play, is amusingly deadpan, and just plain cool.
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged

**Author's Note:**

> I vaguely know where I want to go with this so buckle up for whatever insanity I decide on. 
> 
> Feedback and constructive criticism is of course welcome.


End file.
